Pride & Prejudice
by Langus
Summary: One horrific act. One difficult choice - death or blood? After she falls victim to Katherine's jealousy, Elena faces the toughest decision of her life. Damon helps her through the transition and she learns that first impressions were made to be broken.
1. Prologue

"Katherine, stop!"

Stefan's desperate plea rang out through the underground chamber and her mouth twisted into a cruel smile.

"Why should I? Once I kill her we can be one big, happy family. Won't that be nice?"

There was no sincerity behind her words, but their effect on him was immediate. His eyes widened and he took a tentative step forward.

"Katherine, please. I'm begging you."

"It didn't have to be this way you know," she pouted. "All I wanted was to be with you."

"If you kill her, I swear to God it will never happen. It will become my life's purpose to hunt you down and I won't stop until you're dead."

"Oooo, Stefan. Such mean words." Katherine laughed humourlessly at his threats and tightened her hold on the girl in her arms. Elena struggled against her, desperate for freedom.

"It's nothing personal," she whispered coolly into her ear, "but you have something I want." With one sharp twist, she snapped her doppelganger's neck and let her body drop to the floor.

_It was worth it, _she thought, watching Stefan's eyes widen in shock. Now he would finally understand how she felt after waiting 147 years only to find him in the arms of a lookalike replacement.

"Elena?" Stefan's hands caressed her doppelganger's face and then drifted across the broken bones of her neck in disbelief.

Damon tore down the stairs and took stock of the grisly tableau in front of him. The way Stefan was hunched over Elena's body could only mean one thing... Irate, he turned his attention to Katherine.

"How did you possibly put yourself in this situation twice?" she sneered at him. "Didn't you learn your lesson the first time?"

Crying out in rage, he flew at her and pinned her to the nearest wall with his arm at her throat. His every muscle strained with the restraint it took not to kill her.

"I guess even time can't make a man any less of a fool," she taunted, stroking a hand down his cheek.

"Why her?" he demanded, his voice little more than a growl.

"Because she was in the way," she shrugged easily. "You know that I never let anything stand in my way, Damon. Not even you."

He bared his fangs at her, but she pushed him off easily.

"Oh come on, boys. It's not that bad," she teased, circling them, "I force-fed her some of my blood before you got here. Come morning you'll have her back and then you get to make a choice."

Both brothers gaped at her in shock.

"Turn her, or kill her? It'll be fun watching you fight it out."

Smiling victoriously, she escaped up the stairs before either of them had the wherewithal to follow.

With her departure the tomb went quiet.

"You think she was telling the truth?" Damon asked, breaking the heavy silence.

Stefan snapped out of his trance long enough to look up at his brother and nod solemnly.

"It's Katherine," he answered flatly.

Katherine loved to spread misery and suffering everywhere she went. What better way for her to do that, than to take the one person they both cared about and turn her?

Damon raked his hands through his hair and turned to the nearest wall. Howling in frustration, he struck it with his fist hard enough to leave a sizeable crack in the stone. This time Katherine had gone too far. Taunting them was one thing, but hurting Elena... For that he would hunt her down and stake her even if it took another century and a half to do it.

Lost to his grief, Stefan quietly got to his feet with Elena's body in his arms and solemnly carried her back to the house.

* * *

><p><em>Author's Note: <em>Hello there ladies and gents! This is my first sojourn into the Vampire Diaries fandom. I'm hoping to get a lot of feedback on characterizations and such so I can put together the best fic possible for you guys :) This story is one that has been in my head for a few months now and I'm anxious to get it to paper. It IS a Delena fic but there will be some Stephan & Elena scenes throughout because I just don't think it'd be believable otherwise.

Any thoughts or feedback you'd like to offer would be much appreciated!

Until next time,

Langus


	2. Chapter 1

The atmosphere inside the Salvatore Rooming House was tense, to say the least. Stefan paced across the living room, arms crossed in front of his chest. Damon stared vacantly at the fire, the glass of bourbon in his hand long forgotten.

"We have to do something!"

Damon lifted his head and gazed wearily at his brother.

"Like what, Stefan? If Katherine gave her blood then there are only two ways this is going to end – with Elena dying or Elena turning."

His expression said exactly what he thought of both options – neither was to his liking.

Stefan exploded with uncharacteristic violence and threw the first thing he could find. The chair exploded against the wall, sending debris flying in every direction. Damon rolled his eyes and his brother's melodrama and got to his feet.

"When I find Katherine, I am going to drive a stake through her cold, black heart!" Stefan seethed.

"Not if I get to her first," he countered with a grim smile.

Stefan had every right to want to kill Katherine, but even this thing with Elena didn't come close to making them even. Katherine had played him and betrayed him in every way possible. If the opportunity ever arose, he would be the one to take her life. After 147 years of waiting, he deserved his revenge.

Stefan calmed down some and braced his hands against the fireplace's stone mantle.

"What do we do now?" he asked quietly.

"You know our choices."

Stefan glared at him over his shoulder, "I'm not going to kill her."

"Okay, then we'll let the transition happen and keep our fingers crossed that she doesn't go on a murdering rampage through Mystic Falls."

"Not funny, Damon."

"I wasn't trying to be funny. You're forgetting that there's every chance she'll turn out like Vicky. If it comes to that, we'll _have_ to kill her."

Uttering a hopeless groan, Stefan collapsed into the nearest chair and buried his head in his hands. Damon pulled in a deep breath and slowly sat down across from him. The sound of the fire crackling and popping filled the silence but its radiating warmth did little to comfort either of them.

"I say we let her choose," Stefan spoke up. "Elena's smart and she knows what's involved with becoming a vampire. She's seen what will happen if she doesn't transition. We should let her make the choice for herself."

"You know what she'll choose," Damon said bluntly.

"It wouldn't be the first time a mortal has turned to be with one of us. Either way, it's gotta be her choice, Damon. We should at least _ask_ her what she wants."

"Ask me what?"

The brothers turned in unison to stare at the girl on the stairs. She looked deceptively healthy; her complexion was warm and bright and she smiled shyly at them both.

Stefan was by her side in a heartbeat, pulling her into his arms. Damon watched from his place by the fire, quietly envying his brother's freedom to hold her at will.

"What's going on?"

She looked suspiciously between them and slowly pushed herself out of Stefan's embrace. She eyed Stefan first, but when he refused to speak and looked away she turned her attention to Damon. He hesitated and exhaled a sharp sigh before telling her the truth.

"Katherine killed you."

Her eyes widened in surprise and then fear while her hand caressed her throat in disbelief.

"So that means…"

Damon set down his drink and moved to her side. Taking her arms, he held her gaze to make certain she understood his next words.

"You, Elena, have a choice to make."

The breath escaped her lungs in a 'whoosh' and she fell back. Stefan swooped in to carry her to the nearest couch, whispering consoling words the entire way.

As the shock slowly started to wear off, anger morphed her features. She shook her head and pushed out of Stefan's embrace.

"No! It's not going to be okay, Stefan! She _killed _me! I'm… I'm…"

Her panic became a tangible thing that filled the room. It crowded the large space, making it feel suddenly small and suffocating.

"Only if you let the transition happen," Damon reminded her.

Her eyes lifted to his and he toasted her before throwing back his drink. She gaped in disbelief at his cavalier attitude and frantically turned to Stefan.

"If I don't let the transition happen…"

"You die," he answered softly. His hands caressed her face and he pulled her in for a long hug, "This is my fault. I'm so sorry I couldn't protect you, Elena."

Damon went about pouring himself another drink. Their frequent open displays of affection left a bitter aftertaste in his mouth that no amount of bourbon could wash away.

"What would you do? Both of you. If you had to decide again, which would you choose?"

She stared at them expectantly, her gaze switching from one to the other. Both frowned in unison, looking more like brothers than ever before.

"If you let the change happen, we can help you through it," Stefan promised earnestly. His expression was grim, but his tone was hopeful.

"This is not the life I wanted for you, Elena, but this doesn't have to be the end. We'll find a way to make it work, whatever it takes."

Elena nodded slowly, absorbing his words. Eventually her gaze settled on the black-clad vampire sitting across from her.

"And you, Damon?"

The expression in her eyes was hopeful, but Damon found the words spilling from his mouth before he could stop them. Had he more time to think he might have given a different answer, but at the moment the only thing his brain seemed able to focus on was hatred of all things Katherine.

"I'd stake my own heart before I ever changed again."

Her features sobered instantly and she swallowed down whatever words she'd been about to say. Sighing heavily, he uncrossed his leg and sat forward.

"Look, living like this, being like this, isn't fun, Elena. My brother dearest forced the change on me 147 years ago and I've spent every day since hating him for it. I know I make this look sexy and fun, but here's the truth - being un-dead sucks. It really, really sucks. You don't want this."

Sitting back, he met Stefan's cool gaze. His brother, it seemed, didn't appreciate his brutal honesty, or the effect it had on Elena.

"Would you be singing the same tune if you got to spend the last century and a half with Katherine?" he wondered aloud. "Love changes the equation, Damon."

Damon rolled his eyes. Looking directly at Elena he added, "However much you love him, it isn't worth this. Believe me, I would know."

Elena pulled in a shuddering breath and let it out slowly. She was doing a good job of holding it together, but it was obvious to both of them that the news that she was soon to be dead or un-dead had shaken her to the core.

"Any chance this is a bad dream?" she asked, looking imploringly from face to face. Gloomy expressions and furrowed brows were the only answers they could offer. No such luck, then.

"I need time…" she said softly, exchanging a quick glance with Stefan.

"Well, you've got three days," Damon interjected.

Elena shot him an uncertain glance, nodded and slowly got to her feet. Stefan was at her side, helping her up the stairs until she brushed him off.

"I think I'll go lay down. I'm feeling pretty tired."

"Do you want me to stay with you?" he offered. She shook her head and lovingly caressed his cheek.

"I'm fine. See you in the morning."

With that she left, retreating zombie-like into the hall. Stefan turned round the moment she was out of sight and fixed his brother with a hard look.

"What are you doing, Damon?"

"Helping her make an educated decision," he answered while pouring himself a fresh drink.

"How can you be so calm about this? We did this to her, Damon. We brought Katherine into her life. We brought our world to her doorstep!"

"Hold up there, Stefan. Don't go dragging me into your pity party. You're the one who wanted to settle down, start a life and play house. If you want someone to blame go look in a mirror."

"Besides," he added with a shrug, "Katherine's the same cold-hearted bitch she always was. Elena was her only leverage over you and she took it because we backed her into a corner. "

"Don't pretend that this doesn't affect you too," Stefan warned.

Replacing the lid to the decanter with a flourish, Damon turned to face his distraught brother with a smile.

"Stefan, you're reacting _exactly_ how Katherine expects you to. Don't give her the satisfaction."

With that, he turned and headed for the stairs.

"Where are you going?" Stefan demanded, eyeing him suspiciously.

"To kill Katherine, where else?"

And with a wave, he was gone.


	3. Chapter 2

It was still dark when Elena roused herself from Stefan's bed and made her way downstairs. She could already feel small changes in her body and it hadn't even been 24 hours. Her skin was cool to the touch but it felt hypersensitive, like she'd been in bed with a raging fever. Even the brush of her clothes was painful.

Her eyes were more sensitive too, and she found herself squinting at the brighter lights of the main floor. Was this what she had to look forward to if she didn't transition? Two more days of increasing agony was not a tempting prospect.

The house was quiet all around her and for the first time she could appreciate its silence. Her hearing had grown more acute, to the point where she could hear the silence as loud as any sound. It was as though the old house was breathing on its own. It reassured her and she let the silence wrap around her like a protective cocoon.

Stefan was sitting alone in the study, writing in his journal. He looked up the moment she entered and was at her side in the next.

"How are you feeling? You okay?"

She nodded meekly and fell into his welcoming embrace.

"Stefan... I don't know what to do."

He guided her to the leather day sofa and encouraged her to sit down.

"I can't decide. I know I have to, but I can't!"

"I know…," he reassured her with a kiss. "At least you have a choice. Many of us were never given one."

"I'm scared, Stefan. If I don't let the change happen…" she made a frustrated sound in her throat and her next words cracked.

"It already hurts so much. I don't know if I can survive two more days like this."

"If you let the change happen the pain goes away," he promised with a sincere look.

She nodded and wiped the tears from her cheeks with the back of her hand.

"I know… I know that, but then I think about what happened with Vicky. What if I turned out like her? What if I attacked Matt or Bonny… Oh my god, what if I kill Jenna or Jer? I'd never be able to live with myself! I can't… I can't…"

He gathered her into his arms and shushed her.

"It's going to be okay," he murmured while rubbing her back. "We can help you, Elena. We can teach you how to control the cravings so you don't hurt anyone. It worked with Caroline. It can worth with you, too!"

She nodded distractedly, hardly listening to his reassuring words.

"How do I tell them, Stefan? How do I tell Jenna and Jer? I can't do that to them."

"Let me worry about Jenna and Jer," he soothed. "It'll be okay Elena. Just trust me."

She sniffled and slowly pulled out of his embrace. Wiping the last of the tears from her cheeks she looked around the room.

"Where's Damon?" she asked, only just noticing his absence.

Stefan stood wearing a grim expression and snapped his journal closed on the desk.

"He went to go find Katherine."

"Is he going to kill her?" she gasped.

Stefan tilted his head and shrugged indecisively.

"He might. He's angry enough. He hides it well, but I think hurting you was the last straw. He's not going to let it go easily."

Her brows lifted at Stefan's words. She had to admit, she was a little taken aback. She knew Damon cared about her, but not quite to that extent. Would he really kill Katherine for revenge?

Attempting to divert her thoughts from Damon, Elena made her way to the nearest bookshelf and pulled down a random book. She flipped through the pages, not stopping to read a single word on any of them.

"So what can I expect if I don't transition?"

Stefan was suddenly at her side, taking the book from her hands.

"It's painful," he said sincerely. "You remember what Vicky was like towards the end, don't you? There's a constant gnawing hunger in your body and nothing makes it go away. It doesn't matter what you eat or how much of it, it's always there. That's the blood craving."

He set the book aside and took her hands gently in his.

"Then there's the hypersensitivity. Your eyes hurt to look at any light that's too bright; your skin burns easily in the sun and even the lightest touch can make it feel like it has been rubbed raw. When the fangs start to come in, the pain in your mouth is excruciating. It feels like your jaw is being ripped open."

Elena swallowed hard and did her best to process his words. It was hard to imagine going through all of that, but she couldn't let fear make the decision for her. If letting herself die a slow and painful death would protect everyone she loved, then she would find a way to endure it. Stefan's arms were suddenly around her, holding her tight.

"Don't you see, Elena?" he whispered against her ear, "I would do anything to spare you from having to live through that."

"What if it's for the best? What if-"

There he cut her off with a brief kiss.

"Elena, a world without you in it could never be 'for the best'. Jenna and Jer need you. _I _need you. Please, just promise me you'll think about it."

She felt her head nod and his lips pressed against her cheek. Her eyes closed and she tried to find the answer within herself but it continued to elude her. As tempting as Stefan's offer was, and as much as she loved him, she couldn't honestly say it _was _for the best.

Suddenly feeling exhausted, she pulled out of his embrace.

"I think I need to go lay down."

Stefan's concerned face floated before hers and he held her steady on her feet.

"Elena? What's wrong?"

She waved away his concern and made her best attempt to smile.

"It's okay. I'm fine. I'm just going to lie down. Wake me up tomorrow?"

He nodded and reluctantly let her go.

"Do you want me to come with you?"

He took a step forward, ready to acquiesce at the slightest hint from her. Instead she shook her head and smiled warmly at him from the door.

"I'll be okay. I love you, Stefan."

"I love you, too," he answered back with a small smile.

Letting out a quiet sigh, she left him in the study and found her way back to bed. Somehow in the last thirty minutes her body had become 50lbs heavier. She could barely drag herself all the way up the stairs and into Stefan's bed before she collapsed with exhaustion. She was asleep before her head hit the pillow.

oOo

Damon came to a stop in front of the Emerson Plantation and knew at once he had found the right place. It hadn't been difficult; he'd simply looked for the nicest and most remote foreclosure in the state. There had been three candidates but two were in heavily populated areas. The Emerson Plantation was the only one that offered the freedom of discretion. It was surrounded by 10 acres of woods and wetlands and the closest house was three miles down the road. In essence, it was perfect.

He eyed the flickering candlelight in the windows and decided that he was done with waiting. Pushing the front door open, he strolled casually inside and glanced around the sparsely furnished rooms.

"It's not exactly your style, is it?" Damon called out, eyeing the second floor balcony that extended overhead. Katherine emerged from the shadows and glared at him uneasily.

"What are you doing here, Damon?"

He pushed his hands into his jacket pockets and shrugged.

"I thought you and I were overdue for a little catch up session. We've hardly talked since you faked your own death and left Stefan and I to become vampires."

Katherine rolled her eyes and strolled down the stairs.

"You sure know how to hold a grudge," she muttered with a sour look.

"You have _no_ idea," he teased. "But I think we both know that I've got nothing on Stefan."

Katherine boldly ran her hand down his chest and caught his eye, "Some things never change."

His expression hardened and he caught her jaw between his fingers. She tried to pull away but he held her fast, determined to get through to her.

"Going after Elena today? Bad move. I thought you were smarter than that."

His back suddenly met the wall and the ancient wood cracked under the force of the blow. Dust floated down from the ceiling and glimmered in the dim candlelight.

"I thought we were beyond idle threats, Damon. You and I both know you don't have what it takes. You never have. You couldn't steal me away from Stefan in 1864 and you couldn't convince poor little Elena to love you either. It'd be tragic if it wasn't so damn pathetic."

"Ouch," he pouted, putting his hand over his heart. "That almost sounded genuine."

Making a frustrated noise, Katherine released him and took a step back.

"Can't we be friends?" he offered sincerely, holding out his hand. "We used to have a lot of fun together."

She eyed him dubiously before putting her hand in his. He pulled her close and began dancing with her, slowly on the spot.

"This should have been our first dance at the Founder's party," he lamented.

He'd spent the majority of the party alone, drinking glasses of wine and watching her and Stefan together. They'd made a beautiful pair and appeared so completely in love. When he couldn't stomach the sight of them anymore he'd left, completely missing his opportunity to have a dance of his own with her.

Katherine seemed to be remembering too, and eventually relaxed her head against his shoulder. Her body pressed close and her feet moved in time with his.

"Damon, you and I were never meant to be together," she said resignedly. Her head tilted up and she gave him a sympathetic look, a rarity for Katherine.

"I know," he frowned, caressing her cheek. "I have a habit of falling in love with women who are out of my league."

"You still love me, even after all this time?"

A coy smile played across her lips and she pulled his mouth down to hers. As much as she professed to love Stefan, she'd never denied him.

It was the cruellest sort of self-torture that had Damon picturing Elena in that moment. He could vividly imagine what it would be like to have her in his arms, to feel the warmth of her body and the soft press of her lips against his. Katherine had taken that away from him, just like she had everything else.

He stroked his hand down her back and felt the reassuring weight of the stake slip from his jacket sleeve into his palm. There was a moment of hesitation before he drove it into her back. She gasped and he pulled her close, determined to have the last word. Her body resisted, trembling in its final death throws as he pressed his mouth to her ear.

"Burn in hell you miserable bitch."

Katherine glared up at him, her expression torn between disbelief and rage. And then there was nothing. She collapsed heavily at his feet and went still. He stared down at her for a long while until he was certain she was dead. The house had gone quiet again, the silence broken only by the constant drone of the bullfrogs in the pond outside.

Damon stepped over the body of the woman who had destroyed his life and headed for the door. He tipped over whatever candles he could find along the way. The satisfying scent of burning wood accompanied him for the first five miles down the road. After that, he could smell only the forest and picked up his pace. There was a certain lightness to his steps that he hadn't felt in decades. Sometimes being bad could feel so very, very good.

* * *

><p><em>Author's Note: <em>Yay! Katherine's gone :) Now what about Elena and that decision of hers. Stay tuned for the next chapter where Damon and Stefan will help her in their own unique ways :)


	4. Chapter 3

It was morning. Elena knew it before she even opened her eyes thanks to the massive headache that was aching through her brain. The source was somewhere just behind her eyelids, where the sun's rays were starting to warm. Burying her head under the pillow, she breathed a quiet groan and tried to convince her body to move.

"You know, if you keep sleeping like that you'll sleep right through decision time."

She froze and her head snapped up from under the pillow.

"Damon?" she asked, squinting towards the bathroom. "What are you doing in Stefan's room?"

He emerged from the bathroom topless, wearing his trademark smirk and carrying a small bottle in his hand.

"Stefan's always got the nicest smelling cologne. What do you think about this one?"

He spritzed a few sprays from the bottle into the air and took a tentative sniff. Seeing her noticeable lack of reaction, he set the bottle down and picked up another. After reading the label to himself, he cooed out loud.

"Ooo, Armani!" His eyebrows waggled at her and boldly spritzed a few sprays across his naked chest.

His next stop was to land beside her on the bed. She suppressed a groan as he rested his head on his hand and eyed her with a playful smile.

"Damon, please just go away," she muttered, burying her head under the pillow.

"Oh come on, Elena. If you're going to let yourself die, at least try to have a little fun before it happens."

Her head reappeared from under the pillow and she fixed him with a hard look.

"In case you forgot, this whole transition process isn't exactly fun. Everything hurts and you're not making it any better."

"I know something that might help," he teased.

She stared at him expectantly. He smiled slyly and grabbed the blood bag he'd left sitting on the bedside table.

"Here, drink up!"

Rolling her eyes, she pushed the bag away and rolled out of bed. Her reaction had been purely instinctual, but the longer she thought about it the more tempting the blood became. She could imagine what it would feel like on her tongue, then sliding down her throat and settling into her stomach.

The thought sickened her and she quickly found her way into the bathroom to splash some cold water on her face. When she looked up into the mirror she saw Damon behind her, his expression awash with concern.

"Hey, you okay?"

She gave him a flat look and slumped down onto the toilet seat lid.

"What do you think?"

He crouched down in front of her looking uncharacteristically serious.

"Tell me what hurts."

"Everything," she muttered with an exasperated roll of her eyes.

"Come on, Elena. I'm being serious here. What exactly hurts?"

She breathed a heavy sigh and closed her eyes to concentrate. Even though they were in the bathroom it felt like the sun was creeping its way towards her through the walls. All she could concentrate on was getting as far away from it as possible.

"My head is pounding like my eyeballs are trying to push their way out of my skull and my hands are shaking. Every muscle in my body is sore, like I just ran a marathon, and I'm so _hungry._"

She glanced up at him helplessly and tears suddenly pricked at her eyes.

"I don't know if I can do this, Damon. It's too much!"

"It's going to be okay," he whispered, stroking her hair. "There are some ways we can make the pain less. One way or another, this will all be over soon."

She nodded and sniffled. Suddenly she sniffed again and brought her nose closer to his chest.

"What?" he asked with a bewildered look.

"You smell good," she answered, gaping up at him in disbelief.

A smiled suddenly lifted his features and he helped her up off the toilet lid.

"That's one benefit of the transition process, I guess – heightened sense of smell."

He led her back into the bedroom and guided her carefully to Stefan's bed.

"Wait here. If you want to leave this room today I'm gonna have to take care of some things downstairs."

She nodded and settled back against the headboard with a pillow behind her head. Though Stefan's room had always made her feel comforted and safe, she didn't want to spend one of her last few days alive trapped inside of it.

As promised, Damon returned a few minutes later and held out his arm to her. She took it reluctantly and followed him down the stairs to the main floor. Every window had been shut with its curtains drawn and the brightest of the lights had been turned down or off completely. She felt the pressure behind her eyes ease almost immediately and breathed a quiet sigh of relief.

"Better?" Damon asked with a knowing look.

She nodded her head and offered him a tentative smile, "Better."

He led her into the kitchen and pulled out a stool for her to sit on. The island had been laid out with a single setting of a plate, fork, knife and glass of tomato juice.

"What are you up to?" she asked before warily taking a seat.

He made a show of looking affronted, "Do I always have to be up to something, Elena?"

"Knowing you? Yes."

He smiled at that and retrieved a frying pan from the hook overtop of the island. He twirled it in his hand before setting it on the stove and lighting the burner underneath.

"I was going to make you some breakfast."

"You cook?" she asked with a surprised lift of her brow.

"Of course. The ladies love it." He winked at her over his shoulder and she rolled her eyes.

"This won't curb your craving completely but it'll help and the smell will be real good in that cute button nose of yours. The transition process doesn't have to be entirely miserable, you know."

Suddenly feeling sheepish for having doubted him, Elena looked away and muttered a quiet "thank you."

She always expected the worst from Damon, but it seemed like he'd finally turned things around. He wasn't trying to take advantage of the situation or force himself on her. He was just being nice. It was a refreshing change.

Damon went to work chopping up some apples before tossing them in the pan with some butter. The scent hit her immediately and curled around her stomach like a warm hug. She breathed it in deep and Damon watched her with a discrete smile.

Next he added some brown sugar, cinnamon and nutmeg. The apples sizzled happily in the pan and the kitchen filled with the scent of baked apple pie. Elena folded her arms and leaned forward to get a better look.

Damon was mixing up some sort of batter in a bowl. It looked like pancake mix, but she couldn't be sure without tasting it. He poured the entire bowl into the pan and mixed it around with the apples.

"Where's Stefan?" she wondered aloud, suddenly looking around. She'd hoped to see him when she first awoke. Damon's unexpected appearance had distracted her for a time, but now Stefan's absence was noticeable. Why had he left her alone at a time like this?

"He went to pick up our monthly donation from the blood bank," Damon explained breezily while he retrieved a spatula from the drawer.

Elena felt a bit dejected by this news, but the sudden rich scent of baking bread offered a pleasant distraction. She watched eagerly as Damon added chopped bananas and raisins to the top of the pancake looking thing frying away in the pan. He let it cook for a few more seconds before flipping it over.

"I thought maybe he went after Katherine," she said quietly, toying with the edge of her fork.

"I beat him to it."

Damon tipped the pancake onto her plate and dressed it with a flourish of maple syrup. He set it in front of her and she stared up at him wide-eyed, momentarily forgetting about her hunger.

"You mean…?"

"She's gone. For good this time."

Her eyes fell dejectedly to her plate and she felt her appetite wither.

"I'm so sorry, Damon. I know how much you cared about her."

"Don't be. Katherine was a cold hearted bitch and she had this coming for a long time. She needed to be stopped."

He nudged the plate towards her and urged her to take a bite.

"Go on, eat up."

Knowing he wouldn't be appeased until she did exactly that, Elena cut a piece and popped it into her mouth. The flavour of the cooked apples filled her head and settled warmly into her stomach. She chewed slowly, determined to absorb every last bit of flavour.

Everything tasted more potent. The cinnamon was rich and earthy and she could practically taste the air of the farm where the butter had been churned. Swallowing, she turned to Damon with a look of astonishment.

"It's amazing!"

He grinned and nodded at the plate. She didn't need any more encouragment. She set to work cutting bite after bite for herself while he cleaned up the kitchen.

"Anything else you want to do today? Going outside might not be an option, but there's plenty we can do in here."

"Like what?" she asked around a mouthful of pancake.

Damon shrugged and hanged the frying pan back on the rack.

"What about some Jane Austen? _Pride & Prejudice_ happens to be a personal favourite of mine."

Elena's brow furrowed and she set down her fork. "I don't understand…"

"Come on," he said, taking her hand.

He led her into the library and invited her to take a seat. She lifted a brow inquisitively and curled up on the soft leather couch. Damon took his time perusing the bookshelves.

"In 1864 we didn't have fancy moving pictures to entertain us, so we had to do things a bit differently," he explained, pulling down a battered volume. He flipped the cover open to make sure it was the right one before taking a seat next to her on the couch.

"Why _Pride & Prejudice_?" she wondered, genuinely curious.

He gave her a teasing smile before propping his feet up on the ottoman and flipping the cover open.

"Because Elena, it's all about first impressions and how they're made to be broken."

She opened her mouth to respond but then, to her surprise, Damon began to read.

His voice was soft and controlled and easy on her ears. She rested her chin atop her knee and listened to the way he allowed the story to unfold. He read with a subdued passion that brought Austen's characters to life. She could practically hear Mr. and Mrs. Bennett arguing about their newest neighbour, almost as though they were standing right there in the room with her.

Before long it wasn't Damon's voice she heard anymore, but the story itself. She closed her eyes and listened, watching each scene play out in her mind. Eventually she uncurled and rested her feet across his lap. He didn't seem to mind and unconsciously stroked them with his hand as he read.

As she watched him, Elena began to wonder if she wasn't catching her first glimmer of what Damon had been like before becoming a vampire. There was this entirely different side to him she didn't yet know. She'd thought it impossible before, but now she could see it as clear as day. It made her wonder all the more why he worked so hard to hide it.

Damon had just reached the dramatic climax of the story – Mr. Darcy's first confession of love to Elizabeth - when Stefan appeared in the doorway. The story came to an abrupt halt and Elena folded her feet under her.

"Here you are. How are you feeling?" he wondered, eyeing her uncertainly.

She nodded and shifted a quick glance to Damon. He was watching Stefan with a hint of annoyance, his finger still marking the passage where he'd left off reading. Surprisingly, she felt good. For however long they'd been in the library she hadn't noticed her hunger or the pain in her body. He'd managed to distract her long enough to make her forget that she was dying and she felt a sudden rush of gratitude.

"I feel good," she answered honestly. "Damon's been helping."

Stefan gave his brother a long look, "I'll bet he has."

"Well, that's my cue," Damon interrupted, snapping the book shut.

Elena turned to him with a sinking sense of disappointment. She didn't want him to leave, not before he'd finished, but she could tell from the look on his face that he had no intention of staying. He tossed the book onto the sofa and stalked passed Stefan out the door. Elena watched him go and frowned.

"Everything okay?" Stefan asked, crouching down next to her. "Sorry I left you alone with him. I thought you'd still be asleep by the time I got back."

He stroked her face gently and she felt her disappointment fade a little.

"Really, I'm fine," she promised, gently pushing his hand away. "He's been good today."

Stefan scoffed and sat back on his heels, "Damon's only on good behaviour when he wants something."

Elena felt a sudden rush of emotion at his words. It was completely irrational for her to be angry with Stefan, after all he was only saying what they both knew to be true, but she felt her teeth grind together just the same. Fixing him with a sharp look, she suddenly got to her feet.

"When I woke up this morning scared, hurting and alone, Damon was there for me. Where were you?"

Stefan's mouth opened and closed in shock but she didn't give him a chance to answer. Pushing past him, she retreated into the kitchen. It still smelled pleasantly of her breakfast and the stared longingly at the cold leftovers on her plate. It was a while before she felt the tears on her cheeks and once she noticed them she was powerless to stop their fall.

* * *

><p><em>Author's Note: <em>Finally some solid Delena time :) I hope you guys are enjoying it! This is my first attempt at writing a Delena fic so any feedback you can offer would be great! How am I doing so far?


	5. Chapter 4

Stefan gave her a solid hour to cool off before coming to find her. She was sitting at the desk in his room, flipping through an old photo album. Her eyes travelled over the grainy black and white images, absorbing the details and committing them to memory. Seeing these images of Stefan and Damon… it was like looking at complete strangers. Their bodies were the same but their eyes were different. They'd both changed so much.

She looked up at Stefan's soft knock and slowly closed the album cover.

"Don't stop on my account," he said apologetically. "I just came to bring you this."

He held out a glass of what looked and smelled like tomato juice. There was an underlying scent to it though, one she couldn't place even when she held the glass under her nose.

"What is it?"

"Tomato juice with some iron capsules crushed up inside. Your body's craving the iron that's in blood so this should help with the pain a bit."

Smiling up at him gratefully, she took a small sip. It tasted revolting and she would have spit it back out had he not been watching her expectantly. Suppressing her gag reflex, she finished the glass in three large gulps and set it aside. She didn't have the heart to tell him that it didn't make a bit of difference. The hunger was still there and now she had the disgusting taste of iron-laced tomato juice lingering in her mouth.

"I also brought you this."

Stefan retrieved his hand from behind his back and held out a small, leather bound book.

"My journal?"

She stared at it incredulously before taking it from him.

"I hope you don't mind that I went to your room to get it. I figured you might want to write some things down. It might help you get your thoughts in order."

He was right. Writing in her journal had always been her best form of therapy. Somehow things always made more sense once she put them to paper. She hadn't written in it much since Stefan had entered her life, but she saw no reason not to start again.

"Thank you," she whispered, sending him a warm look. "This is just what I need right now."

He leaned casually against the desk and gave her a long look.

"Any thoughts on what you want to do?"

He wasn't pressuring her for an answer, just curious. She could tell by the soft expression in his eyes and the encouraging smile on his lips. Disappointed, she shook her head.

"No. I have a lot of questions though."

"I'd be happy to answer the ones that I can," he offered helpfully.

She frowned and slowly set her journal aside. There were a lot of things she'd been thinking about today – mainly how much her decision would affect the lives of everyone around her. The thought of dying was terrifying, but the thought of become a blood-crazed vampire was even worse. What if she couldn't control it? What if she hurt someone she cared about or some innocent person?

All she'd been focusing on today was the bad. Perhaps it was time to learn about the good.

"What are the good things about becoming a vampire?" she asked.

Stefan's brow lifted and he sighed lightly.

"Well, that depends on your perspective. For me, some of the good things are getting to watch history unfold, forming friendships that last generations instead of a few years, appreciating the beauty of life and the value of it. Those were things I didn't have before becoming what I am now."

"But it took a while before you became like you are now, didn't it."

"Yes," he answered grimly.

"How long?"

He hesitated. "It was easier once Lexi arrived to help."

"How long?" she asked again.

"Decades."

His sobering answer made her go quiet. He sighed impatiently and reached out to take her hand.

"I was different back then, Elena. I was young and impulsive. You are nothing like me. It wouldn't be that way for you."

"You hope."

"No, I know. Look, Elena, meeting you and falling in love with you is the best thing that has happened to me. It never could have happened if I wasn't what I am. So I can't ever say that I regret it. Even the hard years were worth the happiness I have with you now."

He leaned down for a kiss and she felt comforted by his words. Lexi had made it sound possible, even romantic, for a human to change to be with a vampire. She'd made it sound so easy.

"Did you ever consider asking me to change?" she wondered once Stefan had pulled away.

"Of course," he answered candidly, "but it always would have been your choice. I would've loved you either way."

The revelation that he'd considered someday asking her to become a vampire was surprising. She turned it over in her mind before speaking again.

"I never wanted to become a vampire," she confessed quietly. "I enjoy being human, Stefan. I want to grow old and have kids of my own someday. There wasn't a single second where I wished for this, even if it meant being with you forever."

"I understand," he reassured her. "It's not an easy decision to make. Whatever your choice, just know that I love you and I won't ever leave you."

She nodded and offered him a sad smile. Sensing that she wanted to be alone to get her thoughts in order, he pushed off the desk and headed for the door. She called to him before he reached it and he turned back with a hopeful look.

"What do you miss most?" she asked, nervously picking at the spine of her journal.

He braced his hand against the doorframe and thought it over before answering, "The freedom."

They shared a long look before he broke away and disappeared into the hall. Elena stared at the empty doorway long after she heard his footsteps retreat downstairs. It was only once she was certain he was gone that she allowed herself to succumb to the pain that was coursing through her.

Every part of her ached and throbbed. She felt like she had when she'd woken up in the hospital after the car accident, only this time no amount of morphine could alleviate her pain. It had taken absolutely every ounce of her self control to not let it show while Stefan was around. He already worried about her enough and she didn't intend to make him suffer more – especially when there was nothing he could do to help.

Stifling a cry, she prodded at her teeth and felt the pain radiate throughout her jaw. He'd told her all of this would happen, but did it have to be so soon?

The realization that she was running out of time sobered her enough that she set her journal on the desk and flipped it open to the first empty page. With a trembling hand, she picked up a pen and began to write. She had a decision to make, the most important one of her life, and there was precious little time left to make it.

oOo

It was after midnight. Her last day had arrived and Elena found herself walking towards Damon's room.

She'd only visited it a handful of times, and never longer than a few minutes at a time. She could still remember her surprise when she'd first looked inside and saw the neat and orderly way he kept it. It was such a contrast to the chaotic man who'd whirled into her life like a tornado, leaving death and destruction in his wake. Rose had told her once that there was a lot she didn't understand about Damon and she was finally starting to see the truth behind that statement.

She hesitated a moment before slipping around the corner and peering inside. He was stretched out across the bed with a book in his hand. He read quietly by the dim light of his bedside lamp and didn't seem to notice her at first. Eventually he looked up and she offered him a shy smile.

"Elena…"

Sucking in a breath for courage, she crossed the threshold into his room and made her way towards his bed. He sat up expectantly and she held _Pride & Prejudice_ out to him. He'd never had the chance to finish the story and she needed a distraction now, anything to take her mind off the constant, gnawing pain that radiated throughout her body.

With a surprised lift of his brow, he set his own book aside and took the old classic off her hands.

"Do you mind?" she asked, hoping he wouldn't turn her down.

His expression lightened and he patted the bed next to him.

"Come on up."

She did as he said and snuggled down into the downy warmth of his blankets. He lay on top of them, keeping things harmless and innocent.

"If I knew it was this easy to get you into my bed, I would've read to you ages ago," he quipped with a sly grin.

Elena rolled her eyes and gave him an exasperated sigh. He smirked and flipped the book open to where they'd left off earlier. He continued the story as if they'd never been interrupted and soon she was lost in the world of pastoral England and the Bennett family.

Her pain momentarily forgotten, she eagerly followed the developing relationship of Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy. For a time anyway, their troubles seemed far more significant than her own. They allowed her to forget and to focus on something normal for a while, to imagine herself in a place where vampires and death didn't exist.

It was when he reached the scene where Elizabeth learns of Mr. Darcy's secret involvement in the marriage of her sister that she opened her eyes and lifted her head from the pillow. Damon stopped reading and looked at her expectantly, his expression torn between curiosity and concern.

"Would you still regret it if you'd had the chance to be with Katherine all this time?"

She knew it was an incredibly personal question, but Damon had a habit of being brutally honest with her whether she liked it or not. He lowered the book and gave her a thoughtful look before saying, "I don't know."

She frowned, frustrated by his refusal to answer. He pressed his lips together and tried his best to pacify her.

"Look, things were different for me. All the people I cared about were already dead – my father, Stefan, Katherine… If Katherine had asked me to change so that we could be together I would have done it in an instant. I loved her that much. But it still would have sucked. Being with the person you love makes this existence tolerable, not easy. There's a difference."

Elena took her time digesting his words and eventually blew out a quiet sigh.

"I'd be lying if I said I didn't want you to change. The thought of losing you forever isn't easy, Elena, for either of us. But it doesn't matter what I want or what Stefan wants. This has to be your choice. You have to want it and know it in your heart otherwise you'll end up miserable."

"Are you miserable now?" she wondered, lifting her eyes to his.

He looked at her for a long moment, his expression unreadable, and then smiled.

"Not anymore."

Turning her gaze away she muttered a quiet "Thank you" and rested her head atop his shoulder. His brow lifted in surprise at her sudden change in position, but he wasn't inclined to argue. Instead, he opened the book once more and continued the story, knowing that it was the best and only thing he could do to help her.

It didn't take her long to fall asleep. He continued the rest of the story in silence, sending it to her in the form of a dream. What little else he could do, at least he could do this. She seemed at peace when she slept like this and he lingered with her lying atop his chest for a long while before acknowledging that he'd have to bring her back where she belonged. As much as he wanted to keep her close, especially on her last day, he couldn't be that selfish.

Setting _Pride & Prejudice_ aside, he picked her up off the bed and carried her the short distance down the hall to Stefan's room. His brother was still in the study, scribbling away in his journal. It was how he always got when he was troubled by something. He just hoped he didn't spend all his time writing when he should be spending it with her.

Damon took his time laying her out on Stefan's bed and tucking her underneath the covers. His hand indulgently caressed the side of her face with the faintest of touches before pulling back. He'd returned her to where she belonged, and now it was time for him to do the same. Reluctant to go but knowing it was for the best, he retreated down the hall to his own room where the scent of her still clung to his pillow.

* * *

><p><em>Author's Note: <em>I just wanted to extend a very special thank you to BadBoysAreBest, EtherealDemon, shadowfaxangel, aj81writing, ayna93, paulis8707 and byronsbrain for your reviews so far. They have been incredibly helpful and supporting and truly inspirational. Writers in this fandom are damn lucky to have readers like you :)

I hope you guys enjoyed this newest chapter. BIG Delena developments next chapter & Elena makes her choice - death or become a vampire? Stay tuned!


	6. Chapter 5

Morning came and the Salvatore Rooming House was quiet. Damon sauntered down the stairs and into the kitchen. To his surprise Stefan was already up and sipping a cup of coffee at the island.

"Long night?" he quipped, reaching for a mug.

Stefan gave him a long look before nodding.

"Yeah. You could say that."

"Did she make up her mind?"

Stefan shook his head and set down his cup. He'd barely touched the steaming dark brew inside.

"I've been trying to think of what I can do with her today. It's her last day alive and I can't think of a single way to make this easier on her."

Damon let out a heavy sigh and settled next to his brother on a stool.

"Just be with her. Spend less time writing in your journal and more time talking with her. She needs distractions right now and you've got 147 years of stories you can tell her. Face it, she doesn't know half the crazy shit you've gotten yourself into over the years. You can't let her die thinking you were always this boring."

Stefan scowled, "Shut up, Damon."

Damon smirked and leaned back to peer into the living room. It was empty, as was the rest of the floor.

"Speaking of the little drama queen, where is she?"

"I thought she was with you?"

"Me? I put her to bed in _your_ bed last night, brother. I'm smooth but I'm not _that_ smooth."

The sudden realization that neither of them knew where she was had them instantly on their feet.

"I'll check upstairs, you check the cellar."

Damon nodded in agreement and tore down the stairs. He'd always hated the smell of the cellar. It was rank and musty. It smelled like death and everything associated with it. And for him, it was a painful reminder of what his first few days back in Mystic Falls had been like.

Rounding the corner, he saw the light on in the room where they stored their chest freezer. His heart sank even as his feet barrelled towards the open door.

He found her crouched on the floor, surrounded by empty blood bags. The moment she sensed him in the doorway she hissed and bared her fangs at him. He jerked to a stop and eyed her warily but his concern was unnecessary. The moment she recognized it was him, the red bled out of her eyes and her expression morphed into one or shock. Stunned, she stared down at the half-empty blood bag in her hands and the others scattered around her the floor.

"Damon… What have I done?"

oOo

"I was dreaming. At least, I think I was dreaming."

Elena's brow furrowed and she shook her head, visibly confused.

"One minute I was in Stefan's bed and the next I had a blood bag in my hand. All I can remember thinking was that I was just so _hungry_. I wanted that blood more than anything I've ever wanted in my life. I couldn't stop!"

"Welcome to life as a vampire," Damon lamented with a small toast of his glass.

She gaped at him uncomprehendingly and then balled her hands into fists.

"It's just so wrong. I didn't even get to choose!"

"Sounds like you did," he added with a wry twist of his lips.

"Damon, you're not helping," Stefan chided, taking Elena by the shoulder.

"It's going to be okay. Now that the transformation has happened we can help you control the cravings. We won't let you hurt anyone you care about."

"But that's just it," she rebutted, gently brushing his hand away. "I don't _want _to control the cravings. I want more blood! It feels like I'll never be satisfied. Even after a dozen blood bags I still want more. Is this _normal_?"

Stefan hesitated and shook his head. Her cravings weren't normal. Most vampires were satisfied with one or two bags, more if they were injured, but twelve? He shifted uncomfortably under her gaze. He knew what that kind of craving was like and the sort of destruction it could cause. After all, he'd been there before and understood with painful clarity just how impossible it was to stop.

"For a small girl you have one hell of an appetite. You're lucky vampires can't get fat," Damon teased.

They both turned on him now, wearing matching glares of frustration.

"Shut up, Damon!"

He put his hands up in defence and sauntered away to pour himself a drink.

"What happens now?" she asked, sounding horrified by the prospect that she'd become the exact thing she'd feared – a bloodlust crazed vampire.

"I'll go talk to Bonny about getting you a ring. We can't keep you cooped up here forever. That way you can visit Jenna and Jer and –"

"No!" Elena interrupted, desperately grabbing at his arm.

"I can't go see them like this. Don't you understand? I have no _control_ over this! I could kill one of them, Stefan!"

Shaking his head, he took her by the shoulders and forced her to meet his gaze.

"Elena, I'm not going to let that happen. I promise everything will be okay."

Reluctant to believe him but tired of arguing, she nodded her head sullenly. He dropped his hands from her shoulder and got to his feet.

"I'll go talk to Bonny. Will you be all right here with Damon?"

She gave him a flat look and turned away, keeping her attention focused on the fire. Stefan diverted his to Damon who looked amused by the entire situation.

"Look after her, please."

"Duh," he scoffed, downing the last of his drink.

Stefan shook his head and ran a hand distractedly through his hair. The last thing he wanted to do was leave Elena alone right now, but he needed to talk with Bonny about getting a ring for Elena and explain what'd happened. The sooner he could get her out of the house and show her how normal her life could still be, the better.

oOo

After Stefan's departure Elena retreated upstairs to take a much needed shower and wash the blood from her clothes. She ended up spending most of the shower sitting naked on the floor while the hot water pounded relentlessly against her back. Once it turned cold she managed to get to her feet and turn it off.

How had this happened? She still couldn't understand it. One minute she'd been asleep in bed and the next she was gulping down a blood bag. Was this what her heart truly wanted?

Wrapping a towel around herself, she stepped over to Stefan's desk and flipped open her journal. Her fingers skimmed over the words, reading her jumbled thoughts from the night before. She'd written a list of all the pros and cons, underlining some and crossing out others. At the bottom she'd written "Would it be so bad?" and underlined it several times. There was nothing written after that. At that point the pain had become too much and she'd gone in search of Damon, hoping for a distraction.

Damon…

He'd been a good friend to her these past few days. Actually, he'd been a good friend to her for a while. She was always so quick to doubt him, but maybe things were different now. She remembered his words from the day before about how first impressions were made to be broken. Her first impression of him couldn't be any more different than the one she had now. It was like he was two different men beneath those dark clothes and cocky smiles.

Sighing quietly to herself, Elena towel dried her hair and went in search of some fresh clothes. She'd have to put the others in the wash straight away or else they'd be ruined. Out of habit, she reached for her necklace once her shirt was on. An indescribable pain shot up her arm and she hissed before tossing it away.

"Right…the vervain," she muttered grimly, staring down at her wounded hand. The singed flesh began to heal before her eyes and within a minute it was as though it'd never happened. She stared at her palm in awe, completely fascinated by her body's ability to heal itself.

She was still absorbed by it when a sudden thought, or was it a memory, flashed through her mind. Damon was looking down at her, carefully brushing the hair from her face.

"I don't deserve you, but my brother does."

Just as quickly it was gone and she shook her head in disbelief.

"Was that real?" she wondered aloud. She was at a loss to explain the thing she had no memory of but now seemed to remember. She focused on it again, harder this time, and could see a tear snaking down his cheek.

Lifting her head, she suddenly gasped with understanding. Of course! It all made sense now. The question was, just how many more memories did she have like this one? Determined to get some answers, she pulled on her jeans and headed for the stairs.

oOo

"Hello, Elena…"

Damon glanced back over his shoulder from his seat next to the fire. He looked more serious than usual. There was none of his carefree humour behind the turn of his mouth.

Taking her cue, Elena stepped down into the living room and wrapped her arms around herself. Damon threw down the last of his drink and stood to get another. It was nothing more than a distraction, but one they both needed.

"Want one?" he asked, offering her the bottle. She shook her head and paced in front of the fire.

"I'm starting to remember…things," she began, avoiding his gaze. "I don't know if they're real."

Damon kept his distance, lingering near the wet bar with his glass in hand. Finally she stopped pacing and looked up at him, determined to get some answers.

"Damon, did you compel me?"

He pulled in a deep breath through his nose and briefly lifted his eyes to the ceiling.

"I want to know the truth," she prodded, her expression hardening along with her resolve.

Faster than the human eye could follow, he moved to stand in front of her. She saw trouble in his gaze, and resignation too. His fingertips ghosted down the side of her cheek and fell away.

"Yes, I compelled you."

She gaped up at him and found only truth in his eyes. Today there were no deflections or double entendres and it unsettled her.

"Why?"

He stepped around her and flopped down onto the sofa.

"You already know the answer to that."

She turned slowly, shaking her head.

"I don't…"

"What difference will it make?" he snapped.

He looked angry now, and hurt. Damon never did well with those kinds of emotions. She expected him to lash out but instead his voice went soft.

"Elena, me loving you doesn't make any difference and you knowing it won't change a thing. I think we both know that."

He threw back his glass of bourbon and grimaced as the alcohol burned his throat on the way down.

"Damon…" Words failed her. She didn't know what to say to him.

Elena took a step towards him but he was fast to get to his feet. He manoeuvred around her and poured himself another drink at the bar. At this rate he'd be drunk in no time. Maybe that was what he wanted. Alcohol was a convenient way to dull blood cravings and pain.

Blood cravings… Just the thought of blood was enough to make her mouth water.

"I think I'll have one… ," she interjected, nodding at the bar. Damon lifted an eyebrow but poured her two fingers worth of bourbon just the same. He handed it to her cautiously and a small, teasing smile lifted the corner of his mouth.

"You're still underage, you know. Serving alcohol to a minor is highly illegal."

"Like that's ever made a difference," she retorted and snatched the glass from him.

She waited until he walked away before taking a careful sip. The alcohol exploded across her tongue and filled her nose with its strong aromas of cherry and oak. It burned its way down her throat, leaving her gasping and coughing.

"Did I mention that all our drinks are laced with vervain? Probably best if you start building up a tolerance."

He looked smug and she glowered at him as she set the drink aside.

"Damon, we should talk about this."

He sighed heavily, feigning indifference.

"Oh come on, Elena. Where's the fun in that? Talking about it will only make things _weird_ and _awkward_. You know how I feel about that kind of stuff."

His face turned serious then. All joking aside he added, "Knowing will only make you avoid me more than you already do and I like spending time with you."

"I don't avoid you," she protested meekly.

He looked dubious and she averted her eyes, "It's not what you think…"

"No? Then enlighten me, Elena. I'm all ears!" he smiled mockingly, having already predicted for himself the direction her words were headed.

She sighed heavily and raked her fingers through her hair before turning to face the fire. The flames were bright and warm, a small bit of light on an otherwise dark night. Like an Inquisitor's fire, they kept her honest.

"I don't trust myself around you."

She could practically feel Damon's confused expression behind her and the way his eyes now focused on her back.

"I don't trust myself not to do something that will hurt Stefan."

She turned to face him and added, "You understand, don't you?"

Damon was quick to hide his reaction, but not quick enough. She saw his surprise fall away, only to be quickly replaced with a mask of hardened indifference. He rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, I understand. We wouldn't want to hurt poor Stefan…"

"Don't do that! Don't try to make a joke out of this!"

He moved abruptly to stand in front of her. Her eyes were still glued to the spot where he'd been sitting on the sofa when her vision was suddenly filled with the black of his shirt. She looked up to find his eyes boring into hers, filled with fire and pain. Everything was so close to the surface.

"I have to, Elena!" he protested, taking hold of her arm.

"If I don't joke about it, then the irony of the fact that both women I have loved in my life chose Stefan over me is really too much to stomach. If I don't pretend that hearing you choose him doesn't hurt, I'll end up doing something you'll regret."

"Damon…"

She understood all too well the meaning behind his words. She'd felt his wrath before and knew what he was capable of. She'd hurt him once and he'd taken her brother's life, if only temporarily. She'd turned him away and he'd tried to force himself on her. She didn't want to be reunited with that Damon, not when he'd come so far.

At her silence his expression hardened. She watched his jaw clench and unclench as he struggled to control his emotions.

"This is what happens when you _care_, Elena."

He moved to pull away but she curled her fingers into his shirt to stop him. The old Elena would have looked away, but she couldn't now. He deserved her attention, at least this once. This was what she'd wanted - to know the truth. He'd given her that, along with his heart.

She swallowed hard and struggled to find the right words.

"Damon, I'm sorry…"

He smiled sadly and toyed with the hair hanging over her shoulder, wrapping a little around his finger.

"I know. That's the best part, really. I can't hate you because you never asked for any of this."

Pulling in a deep breath, he let it out slowly and backed away. She felt the absence of him instantly. The space around her felt cold and unwelcoming, enough that not even the fire could warm her.

"If I loved you as much as I said, I would've done this a long time ago."

"Done what? Damon, what are you going to do?"

Elena could feel the fear bubbling up in her chest. Damon was unpredictable when he was hurt, like a wild animal fighting for its life. He turned his back on her and started to walk away. She panicked and ran after him.

She still wasn't used to her new speed and was more than a little surprised to find herself suddenly standing in front of him on the stairs. All she'd had to do was think it and she was there. Damon looked equally surprised and took a small step back.

"What are you going to do?" she asked again, struggling to keep the panic and fear out of her voice.

"I'm leaving," he answered, looking resigned. "You'll thank me for it later, I promise."

"No!"

His eyes widened in surprise at her outburst.

"You can't leave," she pleaded, hoping her words would get through to him. "Don't you understand? I need you _here."_

She could tell she was only hurting him more by asking him to stay when they both knew he should go, but she couldn't stop herself. The thought of him leaving forever left her paralyzed. She couldn't imagine going through this without him, without _either_ of them.

How many times had he saved her life? How many times had he been the one person she could talk to when no one else understood? She needed him more than her family, her friends or the blood. She needed _him_.

"Elena…"

She heard the resignation in his tone and knew what it meant. He was going to go anyway because he thought it was right. He loved her that much, enough to separate himself from the equation so that she could be happy with Stefan. He really had changed. Here he was, being the better man she'd always told him to be and she hated it.

"I can't let you go…" she whispered.

He swallowed and watched her, his eyes wary of her every move. He wanted to believe this was real, but he couldn't trust it. He'd been hurt so many times before, by Katherine, by her… What reason did he have to believe that she might ever love him back?

Her fingertips drifted boldly across his parted lips and she felt his warm, rapid breaths between them. He didn't move closer. He wouldn't do that again. If she wanted this, she'd have to make the decision for herself. And she did.

She leaned closer and heard the breath hitch in his throat. The expectation was everything. It filled her until it felt like every vein in her body flowed with it.

"Please stay."

Her breath faltered and her lips brushed across his, tentatively at first and then more boldly. His hands lifted to gently cup her face while her mouth moved softly over his, coaxing him to return her touch.

When he told her he'd kissed her on her family's front porch she'd pretended to be disgusted for Stefan's sake, but a part of her had always wondered what it would've been like. What kind of kiss could a man like him offer?

With Stefan it was the same from day one – warm, open and unreserved. She'd imagined that a person like Damon, who enjoyed tormenting others for fun, would be just as aggressive and demanding with his kiss. The thought had comforted her then, making her certain of the fact that she never would've enjoyed it.

But she knew him now, the real Damon. He wasn't that selfish, destructive person anymore and hadn't been for a long time. His kiss told her everything. There was nothing demanding about it, nothing selfish or rough in his caress. Even when the pressure of her mouth on his became more insistent, she felt his restraint. There was fear there, a very real fear of being hurt again, and it killed her to know that she'd planted the seed.

Eventually he pulled away and his eyes that were the colour of the sea were filled with trouble.

"I don't regret it," she said quickly, "I won't ever regret it."

He looked relieved and his face relaxed into a hesitant smile. She felt herself smile in response. Damon's expression soon clouded over as he brushed the hair back from her face with a soft touch.

"What about Stefan?"

She frowned, finding herself without any sort of answer. She hadn't planned this far ahead. She still loved Stefan but it was obvious now that she cared for Damon too. She couldn't hide it and she didn't want to fight it. So where did that leave them?

"What about me?"

Damon's hand dropped away and she saw wariness creep into his gaze. Holding her breath, she turned around and faced the exact person she'd been hoping to avoid.

"Stefan…"

* * *

><p><em>Author's Note: <em>As promised, some major Delena developments in this chapter. Sorry about the cliffhanger. Will hopefully have another chapter up shortly.

A very special thank you needs to go out to BadBoysAreBest, EtherealDemon, shadowfaxangel, emmalilley, Crimson-Kiss17, aj81writing, ayna93 and byronsbrain for taking the time to leave comments and suggestions on the last chapter. It's been really great reading your feedback and bouncing my ideas off of you. I hope I don't let you down! Thank you for being fabulous and inspiring :)

Cheers,

Langus


	7. Chapter 6

The silence that followed spoke more loudly than any words could have. She looked into Stefan's eyes and saw the uncertainty there, an awareness that something was going on that he wasn't privy to. It was still a tiny seed, not yet bloomed into full-fledged suspicion, but it was there and seeing it made her mind go blank. Her mouth opened and then closed again. She wasn't ready to give him an answer, or even a confession. Stefan's brow furrowed and he reached for her.

"I thought you went to go find the witch."

Damon's snide comment cut the tension and Stefan's hand dropped away. They both turned to look at him and Elena's shoulders sagged with relief. Stefan side-stepped her and sauntered down the stairs into the living room while she mouthed a silent "thank you" to Damon.

"I talked to Bonny. She's not happy. She doesn't want to give Elena a ring until she's certain her blood cravings are under control."

"Witches!" Damon threw his hands up in exasperation and stalked over to the fireplace. Elena made a move to follow and then stopped herself and paced back and forth in front of the wet bar instead.

"I should've gone with you to talk to her," she muttered, shaking her head.

Stefan placed a comforting hand on her shoulder, stopping her feet in place. She looked up and he gave her a patient smile.

"It'll be okay. It was the same with Caroline. She's just looking out for you."

"Come off it, Stefan. She's on a witchy power trip because she's pissed off that Elena turned into a vampire."

Stefan glared over his shoulder at Damon, who was only too happy to return it.

"She's not going to let her best friend stay cooped up at our place forever. She'll come around."

Elena nodded, realizing that he was probably right. Now that Bonny knew what she was, she'd come. Even if it was just to see it for herself. She was too curious to stay away forever. Bonny hated vampires but maybe once she proved to her that she could control the cravings it'd be like old times again. That was what she hoped would happen anyway. The question now was how long would Bonny make her wait?

"What am I supposed to do in the meantime?"

She looked up in time to see Stefan and Damon exchange a glance. Some unspoken communication passed between them and Damon nodded before looking away. Stefan's arm slipped around her shoulder and she managed a tight smile.

"We can't do much until sunset, but maybe we can use that time to our advantage. I'll teach you how to control the cravings and then later tonight we'll go out and see how far you've progressed."

The idea instantly filled her with horror. There was no telling what she might do or who she could hurt. What if she saw someone in town – like Jer or Matt. How would she explain it to them?

"Stefan… I can't!"

He leaned down and gave her a certain look. "You can. I know you can."

He caressed her cheek with his thumb before planting a soft kiss against her lips, "You have to trust me, Elena. I won't let anything happen."

His words were reassuring, but they couldn't dispel the knot of worry that had taken root in the pit of her stomach. She glanced over at Damon and found him watching her with a grim expression. He looked at her as though he understood every doubt and worry running through her mind and he probably did. After all, 147 years ago he'd been in her position and was also wooed by Stefan's reassurances that everything would be fine. They all knew how that had turned out.

Damon's lips lifted in a humourless smile before he looked away. She wanted to go to him but Stefan's hand was suddenly warm and soft around hers and he was pulling her towards the stairs.

"Come on, we've got a lot of work to do before sundown."

She reluctantly went along with him, not feeling the least bit reassured. Glancing back over her shoulder, she saw that Damon was gone and exhaled a quiet sigh of defeat.

oOo

Downtown Mystic Falls was bustling with activity. Some charity organization or another had organized a picnic style event in the town square. Damon eyed the gingham-checkered tables piled high with Tupperware containers and disposable plates and groaned inwardly. It never ceased to amaze him how style and class had consistently gone downhill with each passing generation.

He wasn't there to nibble on potato salad and talk about little league baseball though. His eyes narrowed and made one more sweep of the tables before he spotted his target. Moving swiftly through the crowds of people, he came up behind the perky blonde. She turned before he reached her and narrowed her eyes at him in suspicion.

"Damon."

"Caroline."

He offered her a bemused smile and she lifted a brow before shifting her weight to her other foot.

"What do you want?"

"I need a favour."

"No."

Turning her back, she promptly disappeared into the crowd of people milling about the tables. Lifting his eyes to the sky, Damon asked for some patience before setting off after her. He caught up to her next to the stage where some local country band was setting up their equipment.

"Come on, Caroline. It's about Elena."

Her lavender pumps slowed to a stop and she turned to face him. Her expression was wary but he knew that when it came to Elena she couldn't say no.

"Leave her alone, Damon."

He put up his hands in defence and took a step closer.

"It's not what you think."

She gave him a guarded look and crossed her arms.

"Look, it's kind of a long story. Come with me to the Grill, I'll buy you a mimosa or two, and we can talk about it."

He flashed his best charming smile at her and saw her conviction waver.

"I do love mimosas," she pouted.

Damon held out his arm and Caroline realized that he'd already won. Accepting defeat, she slipped her arm through his and they headed in the direction of the Grill.

oOo

"What?"

Damon cringed at Caroline's sudden outburst and motioned for her to be quiet.

"Keep it down, would ya?"

Caroline slowly dropped back onto the booth's red vinyl seat and stared blankly at the table. It was obvious that she was shaken. Damon considered reaching out and taking her hand, but took a sip from his glass instead.

"How did this happen?"

"Katherine."

Caroline nodded understandingly, needing no further explanation. Katherine had turned her against her will as well. The only difference was, when she woke up at the hospital no one had been there to walk her through the process. There hadn't been a single kind face to tell her what was going on or promise to help her through it. She'd never felt more alone than she had that day and she felt a sudden sadness well up within her at her friend's plight.

"Poor Elena."

Damon set down his drink and studied the blonde vampire sitting across from him. When he first arrived in Mystic Falls he'd gladly taken advantage of her. She was little more than a child then – weak, naïve, dim-witted and vain. He'd played upon every single one of her weaknesses to get what he wanted. Becoming a vampire had changed Caroline in ways that she likely didn't even realize. She was stronger now, a worthy adversary and an even better friend. On some level he considered her a friend, but doubted that she extended the same affection for him.

"I need your help," he said finally. She looked up and met his gaze evenly.

"Tell me what I can do."

Damon smiled inwardly, feeling relieved for the first time that day.

"I need you to help me keep an eye on her," he explained, fingering the condensation on his glass. "Stefan's convinced that he can help her control the blood cravings. He wants to take her out on the town tonight to prove it to Bonny so she'll give her a ring."

Caroline's eyes widened.

"That's crazy!"

A grim smile lifted his lips. "I know that and you know that, but Stefan's not convinced. I just want an extra pair of eyes to be on her tonight, you know, in case something happens."

Caroline nodded understandingly. She remembered all too well what it felt like to lose yourself to the craving. She still hadn't gotten over the guilt of killing that poor man. With her parents already gone, the last thing Elena needed to worry about was having some innocent person's death on her hands. There was no telling what that might do to her. She'd been so strong since the accident, but everyone had their breaking point.

"Okay, I'll help," she promised with a nod of her head. "I think it's probably best if we keep Matt and Jer away tonight, too. They'll know something's up if she's not acting like herself."

Damon nodded in agreement, "Good plan." Sighing suddenly, he sat back and wearily closed his eyes.

"This has got bad idea written all over it."

Caroline frowned in sympathy and reached out to lay her hand overtop his. His eyes opened slowly and he glanced down in surprise. He could count on one hand the number of people in his life who'd ever shown him affection. Caroline was number three on that list. When his eyes met hers she gave him an encouraging smile and then pulled her hand away. Taking up her empty glass she held it out to him expectantly.

"Or two..." she reminded him, smiling sweetly.

Sighing heavily, Damon leaned forward to take the glass from her, "Yeah, yeah…"

He got up and headed to the bar just in time to hide the smile that turned up the corners of his mouth. Of all the people in Mystic Falls that he could've turned to in his hour of need, he'd chosen Caroline Forbes. He glanced over his shoulder at her lavender pump bouncing up and down and shook his head. Well, stranger things had happened…

oOo

"I can't do it, Stefan."

"Just try again."

His tone was controlled and patient, but it did little to ease her frustration. She tossed down the empty blood bag and crossed her arms in front of her chest.

"This is impossible."

"It's difficult but it's not impossible. Come on, just once more."

Stefan pulled the tab out of a fresh blood bag and held it out to her. She stared at it and willed her arms to stay wrapped around her body. Her resolve lasted all of three seconds. The moment the scent of fresh blood hit her nose, it was like her body moved with a will of its own. She snatched the bag from him and brought it to her lips.

Her first sip was like Heaven. She pulled long and hard before swallowing down the viscous red liquid. It didn't taste different from regular blood. She'd always assumed that it must by the way vampires seemed to go into orgasms over it, but she knew the truth now. It wasn't the taste that made it so good, it was the instant effect it had on your body.

The moment the blood touched her tongue and travelled down her throat she could feel its power coursing through her. It reached to the very tips of her fingers and toes, along with every muscle and nerve cell in-between. It was like receiving an instant shot of life with each sip and that was what made it impossible to stop. She suddenly felt a strong camaraderie with drug addicts. It had to be something like this.

"Now stop."

She heard Stefan's command and reluctantly pulled the blood bag from her lips. The temptation was almost too much to bear. Mere inches away was the exact thing she craved. It would be so easy to have more, so simple just to lean forward and suck the bag dry. She hissed in annoyance and glared at Stefan's patient expression.

"Now think of something else. It can be anything - Jenna, Jer, your parents, your homework, anything that will keep you from taking that next sip."

That was the hard part. No matter how much she loved the people in her life, just thinking about them wasn't enough to override the craving. Therein lay her problem – she'd yet to find anything that could distract her long enough to let her craving return to a manageable level.

The sound of heavy footsteps on the wooden floorboards caught her attention and her eyes snapped up to the door. Damon filled the doorway with one arm braced against the jam. He studied her carefully and she felt her features slowly return to normal. For a moment, at least, the blood bag rested forgotten in her hand. She was too busy remembering how to breathe and trying her best to figure out exactly what she was going to do about him.

Noticing her sudden change, Stefan glanced over his shoulder at the door and his expression quickly fell.

"What are you doing?" he demanded, getting to his feet.

"Just seeing how your lessons are coming along, little brother," Damon shot back before sauntering into the room. He made his way over to where she was sitting on the floor and crouched down next to her.

"How you holding up?"

The soft look in his eyes sent a wave of relief coursing through her. She knew how she looked – disoriented, surrounded by empty blood bags and her lips and teeth stained red – and yet he didn't seem bothered by it. There was no hint of disgust or censure in his gaze, just genuine concern for her well being. She managed a nod and exhaled a quiet sigh.

"Better. Not great, but better."

"Don't sell yourself short. You've improved a lot."

Stefan's words of encouragement rang hollow when she looked at the empty blood bags on the floor around her. Each one was another failed attempt. There were six in total. Those could be six innocent lives, six of her friends, Jenna or Jer… Who was he trying to fool? They hadn't made any progress at all.

"This coming from the guy who spent the first half of the 20th century known as 'The Ripper'," Damon remarked with a sly glance over his shoulder.

Stefan's expression darkened at the reference and he crossed his arms in front of his chest.

"What's your point, Damon?" he asked, leaning back against his desk.

Damon shrugged and got to his feet.

"Nothing, 'cept that you're the _last_ person who should be giving her advice on how to control blood cravings."

"You've got a better idea?" he challenged.

At this Damon smiled victoriously and gave Elena a wink.

"As a matter of fact, I do."

He gestured to the door and Stefan turned his head in time to see Caroline rush in. She was at Elena's side in an instant, pulling her into her arms.

"Elena! I'm so sorry! Are you okay? You must be so scared…"

Caroline sat back on her heels and studied the tell-tale red stain around her friend's mouth. Her brow furrowed and she took her hand in hers, offering her a sympathetic smile.

"It's so hard to stop, I know! But don't you worry. We'll work on it together, just you and me, and pretty soon it'll be like nothing at all."

"Just as simple as that?"

Caroline's head bobbed, her blonde curls bouncing as she nodded.

"Yup! Just as simple as that. Now come on, we can't concentrate here with all these boys and blood bags around."

Taking her by the hand, Caroline helped Elena up off the floor and headed for the door. Stefan opened his mouth object, but Damon held him off.

"You can use my room. Last door at the end of the hall," he called out to them as their footsteps faded from the library.

"What are you up to, Damon?" Stefan demanded as soon as they were alone. "What happened between the two of you today?"

Damon wisely chose to ignore the accusation. He lifted a brow and turned on his brother.

"You know, I was about to ask you the same question," he taunted with a placating smile.

Stefan looked angry enough to throw something. Instead he exhaled a controlled breath through his nose and headed for the door. He made sure to stop next to Damon and leaned in close enough so that only he could hear his next words.

"Just stay the hell away from her," he ground out in a voice like ice.

Damon shivered in mock fright and laughed. Not a chance.

* * *

><p><em>Author's Note: <em>I hope you guys didn't mind waiting for this chapter. I had an assignment due this week so unfortunately my fic writing had to be put on hold. I truly adore Caroline in the series so I hope to use her more in the upcoming chapter. I hope you guys like her too!

I want to say a special thank you to those who left such kind reviews for me on the last chapter. There were a lot of Delena developments and it was really great hearing your thoughts. **BadBoysAreBest, EtherealDemon, shadowfaxangel, Avecia, ayna93, byronsbrain, aj81writing, and Aubelys - thank you, thank you, thank you ;)** It's always such a pleasure hearing from you.

Until next time then,

Langus


	8. Chapter 7

Despite Stefan's assurances that everything would be fine, Elena hadn't been able to shake the ominous feeling hanging over her on the drive to The Grill. Her worst fears were realized the moment she crossed the threshold of the restaurant's open door. The scent of blood was everywhere. It hit her like a wall, a living, pulsing, breathing wall and her stomach lurched in response. Behind the dark lenses adorning her face her eyes changed colour to a violent blood red. She turned around, ready to leave, and felt Caroline take her hand.

"I don't know if I can do this," she whispered quietly to her friend. Caroline responded by giving her hand and reassuring squeeze.

"You can! Just remember what we talked about. I'll be here with you the whole way."

Elena pulled in a deep breath through her nose and let it out slowly. She closed her eyes and pictured Jer. She envisioned attacking him, sinking her teeth into his neck and draining him dry. The scene was vivid enough to shake her to the core. With her resolve firmly in place, she opened her eyes and felt them slowly return to normal.

Turning to Caroline, she gave her friend a hesitant smile and they manoeuvred their way through the crowd to the bar.

"Now here's the fun part of being a vampire," the blonde whispered with a mischievous glint in her eye. Giving Elena a playful wink, she leaned across the bar and caught the bar tender's attention. Elena heard her friend's voice drop into a sultry tone and knew that the poor man didn't stand a chance.

"It's my friend's birthday tonight. It'd be really nice if you could give us some drinks on the house."

The man nodded obediently and answered with, "Of course. Anything for you."

His voice was the tell-tale monotone of someone under compulsion. Caroline had no qualms about using that particular skill to her advantage whenever it suited her. It was one of the many reasons she'd given Elena for "Why Being A Vampire Doesn't Completely Suck." Seeing it in action, she had to admit that it _was_ rather convenient. Free drinks for life sounded like a decent consolation prize, especially considering that alcohol was one of the only things that could dull blood cravings.

"Oh and you already checked our IDs so you don't need to ask for them again," she overheard Caroline add with a flirtatious smile.

"Of course," the bar tender replied. "You sure look young, but you're real pretty so I won't bother you about your ID."

Caroline feigned surprise and bashfully fluttered her eyelashes. "Why, thank you! Now how about you get my friend and I a couple shots of tequila? We've got some serious celebrating to do!"

The bartender sauntered off to do her bidding and Caroline returned with a victorious smile.

"See? It's easy," she bragged, taking her arm. "It just takes a little bit of practice and then it's nothing."

"Don't you ever feel bad?" Elena asked with a dubious glance at the bartender dutifully setting out their drinks. Caroline followed her gaze and shrugged.

"It's not like I compelled him to jump off a bridge. Come on, Elena! It's time for us girls to have a little bit of fun."

With her arm securely linked around hers, Caroline led her to the bar and handed her her first shot of the night.

"Bottoms up!" she said cheerfully before clinking their glasses together.

Elena sighed in defeat and hoped that alcohol did the trick. It was taking just about every extra ounce of her concentration to not attack the person standing next to her. Anything that could keep this constant hunger of hers under control was worth a shot.

"Well?" Caroline looked her up and down expectantly.

"I think it's gonna take a few more of those before I notice a difference," she answered, frowning at her empty glass.

"It'll get easier," Stefan promised, coming up behind her. He slipped his arms around her waist and offered her a chaste kiss on the cheek. Smiling at them knowingly, Caroline made a beeline for the bar to get some more drinks and give them some privacy.

Elena turned in Stefan's arms and shook her head.

"I really don't think this was a good idea. All I can think about is the…_blood_," she said, lowering her voice to a barely audible whisper. "What if I hurt someone?"

"I won't let that happen," he reassured her with a soft smile. "All you need is a distraction."

He glanced pointedly at the numerous couples dancing up a storm near the DJ booth and held out his hand. She wavered uncertainly, not sure she could keep herself in control when surrounded by so many other people. Stefan pouted until she finally put her hand in his and he wasted no time leading her to the dance floor.

The DJ was good and the music was a decent distraction at first, but it didn't last. By the third song she caught the first warm, salty whiff of the other dancers' sweat on the air. It curled in her stomach and brought her hunger roaring back to life. She could imagine the taste of them on her tongue and how sweet their blood would be coursing through her veins. All she had to do was lure one of them away. It'd be so easy. No one would ever know…

With a shake of her head she forced the tempting thought out of her mind and pulled in a few shallow breaths. Stefan noticed and pulled her close, his features awash with concern.

"What's the matter? What's wrong?"

She searched for the words to respond but they evaded her. Her brain couldn't seem to focus on anything but the blood and how badly she wanted it. She exhaled a sharp sigh of frustration and met Stefan's worried gaze.

"This was a bad idea," she muttered with a helpless look.

Stefan opened his mouth to reply but was interrupted by Damon's arrival. The cool glare that passed between them did not go unnoticed.

"What do you want?" Stefan barked.

Damon gave him a cool smirk and nodded towards the exit.

"The witch is here. I thought you should know. One of us needs to go talk to her and I think we both know how she feels about me."

Damon had a point. Bonnie hadn't trusted him since the first moment he'd arrived in town. Even now that they had an uneasy alliance, there was no love lost between them. Bonnie would kill Damon the moment she deemed him a threat and he wouldn't shed a single tear over sacrificing her to suit his own purposes.

Stefan's shoulders fell as he realized the truth behind Damon's words. If anyone was going to have a chance of getting through to Bonnie, it was him. With a soft kiss and a lingering look, he reluctantly left Elena's side and headed for the door.

"Hey, you okay?"

The note of concern in Damon's voice was genuine and his brow furrowed as he looked her up and down. She managed a smile and he promptly held out a shot of something alcoholic. She accepted it with alacrity and quickly tossed it down her throat. Damon promptly took the empty glass from her and handed her another with a knowing look. This one she took her time to taste – bourbon, his favourite.

With her second shot finished and her blood craving momentarily quieted, she offered him a tentative smile.

"Thanks. I really needed that," she confessed, wiping the sticky remnants of the alcohol from her lips.

Damon deposited the empty glasses onto the nearest table and took up her hands.

"Come on, now it's time to _really_ dance," he teased.

"Are you sure we should be doing this?" she wondered, hazarding a quick glance around. Stefan was still outside talking with Bonnie and Caroline was sitting at a table with Matt. They appeared to be in the middle of a heated conversation. Those two were always having some kind of trouble.

For the moment, it was just her and Damon and the realization made her heart skip a beat. Her eyes lifted to his in time to catch his saucy wink.

"Absolutely," he said with a contagious sort of self-confidence.

Catching her off guard, he spun her in a quick circle before catching her up and pulling her close. She laughed breathily and tightened her grip on his arms. He made it fun, whatever this existence of hers now was, being with him made her forget the bad for a while.

The sudden press of his warm, solid body against hers was one of the more pleasant distractions of the night. She indulgently ran her hands down the muscles of his chest, and felt his arm tighten around her back. The scent of his stolen Armani cologne filled her nose and she dipped her head to breathe him in.

With his body so close like this, he filled her every sense. They might as well have been alone for all the notice she took of the other couples dancing around them. A smile courted her lips and she lifted her gaze to find his lips tantalizingly close. A brief memory of their earlier kiss sent a sudden blush rushing to her cheeks and she quickly pulled away.

As fun as this was, she realized that they needed to talk about where to go from here. Now that she knew his true feelings, she couldn't ignore hers. What'd started as something buried so secret and deep she hardly would have admitted it to herself in her human days had become something tangible now that she was a vampire. She couldn't ignore it any longer, and she didn't want to. He deserved an answer, as did Stefan.

Katherine had nearly destroyed them with her games a century and a half before and she wasn't prepared to allow history to repeat itself. As loathed as she was to admit it though, she finally understood Katherine's motives when it came to the Salvatore brothers. It really was impossible to choose between them.

"We should talk about what happened earlier," she whispered with a nervous glance at the exit. Damon exhaled softly and pulled her closer.

"Do you talk by rule then, while you are dancing?" he jested in the haughty tone of Mr. Darcy.

She smiled in spite of his obvious attempt at a subject change and found herself replying, "Sometimes. One must speak a little, you know."

The light-hearted expression fell from Damon's face and his finger skimmed the underside of her jaw in a feather light touch before falling away.

"Don't worry," he shrugged with a pained smile, "I knew how this would end from the start."

"Wait, that's not…"

"There you are!" Caroline suddenly marched up to them out of the crowd and Damon reluctantly pulled back to put some distance between them. Caroline eyed him suspiciously and he responded with a bemused lift of his brow. Rolling her eyes at him, she turned to Elena and scanned her features for any signs of trouble. Seeing none, she visibly relaxed.

"I'm sorry I left you alone," she apologized with a guilty look. "I didn't know Matt would be working tonight and we sort of had some things to talk about…"

Elena smiled at her friend and waved off her apology.

"Don't worry about me. Is everything okay between you guys?"

Caroline looked undecided before nodding her head 'yes'.

"It's just hard being what I am and not being able to tell him. I want to, but I just don't know how he'd take it," she confessed with a worried frown.

"My suggestion is don't," Damon interjected. "If you care about him, never tell him what you are. He doesn't need to know."

Elena lifted her brows in surprise at the decisiveness behind his words. She had to wonder if that was how it had been between him and Katherine. His first love had told him what she was from the very beginning and then invited him into her world only to leave him behind.

Seeing Caroline's troubled look, she took her friend's hands in hers and gave them a reassuring squeeze.

"Tell him when it feels right," she suggested, ignoring Damon's snort of protest. "If and when it ever feels like the right moment, tell him the truth and see how he reacts. You can always compel him if it doesn't turn out the way you hoped."

She glanced pointedly at Damon as she said the last part and noticed his throat swallow convulsively. Caroline nodded in agreement and forced a small smile.

"Yeah, you're right. Hey, did you know Bonnie's here? I saw Stefan talking with her outside…"

Elena nodded and glanced uncomfortably at the door. "She's here for me. She doesn't trust that I'm ready to have a day walking ring yet."

Caroline frowned and put a hand on her hip. "Well that's just crazy. She gave _me_ a ring and I'd already killed someone. You haven't even bitten a person yet."

Elena wasn't sure if Caroline's observation was meant to be comforting, but knowing her friend and her decided lack of tact in certain situations, she did her best to take some solace from it. Feeling uneasy at the prospect of facing Bonnie so soon, she pulled out of Damon's reach and nodded in the direction of the restroom.

"I'll be right back," she promised, giving him a reassuring nod when he opened his mouth to protest. Caroline hooked her arm through hers and gave Damon a teasing smile.

"You know us girls, can't ever go to the washroom alone."

Damon acquiesced with a small bow and retreated in the direction of the bar. Elena was both relieved and disappointed to see him go. His absence meant the end of her distraction and the room suddenly felt too small. From all sides bodies were crushing in on them as they pushed their way across the dance floor. Warm, living, human bodies filled with pints and pints of blood.

She picked up her pace, desperate to get to the toilet before she did something stupid like lose control and attack someone in the middle of a crowded room. Caroline was content to follow along, jabbering away about Matt and their most recent blow up. He couldn't understand why she spent so much time at the Salvatore house and she was equally frustrated by his busy and ever-changing work schedule. Between school, work and the football team he didn't leave any time for her.

Elena nodded her head like a dutiful friend and did her best to listen but the heartbeats around her soon drowned out every other sound. They seemed to meld and merge into a single cacophonous rhythm, deafening her with temptation.

"Uh oh…"

Caroline suddenly stopped, pulling her up short. Matt was standing a few feet away looking as though he was ready to continue their talk from earlier. He gave Elena a tight smile and then looked at Caroline expectantly.

"You gonna be okay?" she mouthed over the music.

Elena dutifully nodded her head and Caroline released her arm.

"I won't be long," she promised before heading over to Matt. Elena watched her go just long enough to give the impression that everything was fine and then quickly darted into the bathroom. She found it empty and promptly locked the door behind her.

The heavy wood offered her a momentary reprieve from the sounds and smells just beyond and she breathed a heavy sigh of relief. Walking over to the mirror, she slowly pulled down her glasses and stared at the grotesque mask looking back at her. It was a face she didn't recognize, but one that she would become all too familiar with over the next decades or centuries.

Her eyes had turned a brilliant shade of red and the veins standing out around them made her appear like some ghoulish villain ripped from the pages of a science fiction comic. She experienced a momentary flash of hatred towards Katherine for doing this to her. If Damon hadn't killed her already, she would have done it herself. What right did she have to change her? What right did _Katherine,_ of all people, have to steal her life away?

Her fist flew with explosive force at the mirror and shattered it. She stared at the glittering pieces of glass littering the floor and sink and felt utterly dumbfounded. She'd never been a violent person and now suddenly she was punching mirrors? Stefan's warning that vampire emotions were stronger and more volatile than human ones suddenly rang true and she took a step back, horrified.

Was this was she had to look forward to? A lifetime of barely maintaining control? She felt sick and the sudden panic that rose up within her would not be quelled.

"I shouldn't have come here," she whispered, her voice shaking. "I'm not ready…"

Determined to get out before she could do any more damage, she snapped open the lock and flew out the door directly into Matt's chest.

"Oh! Elena… Sorry about that…" he muttered with a sheepish grin. His arms lingered around her and despite every logical part of her brain telling her to run she lifted her head and smiled up at him.

"How are things with you and Care?" she asked, her eyes focused on the rapid beat of the pulse in his neck.

He sighed heavily and cast a worried glance over her shoulder at the club.

"I don't know. I care about her but sometimes it just feels like there are too many secrets between us. She's hiding something from me, but I can't figure out what it is."

"She's a vampire."

Matt's head snapped back and his eyes widened.

"What did you say?"

Elena smiled sweetly and maintained eye contact. If she was going to attempt her first compulsion, she couldn't think of a more perfect subject.

"I said she's a vampire," she repeated softly. "I want to tell you all about it. Let's go somewhere more private."

Her heart was racing with anticipation and her mouth was so dry she could hardly push the words out. The moment he nodded his head and answered "Okay" she nearly cried with relief. Caroline was right, it was easy once you got the hang of it. A little too easy, maybe.

Matt silently led her out the employee exit to the back of the club where they threw out the recycling and trash. The metal door clanged noisily shut behind them and Elena felt a sudden rush of exhilaration. Taking Matt by the hand, she led him down the narrow metal stairs and behind the dumpster.

"So what's this about Caroline being a vampire?" he asked, looking thoroughly troubled and confused.

"She's a vampire, I'm a vampire, we're all vampires," she said airily, laughing at how ridiculous it sounded. How was it possible that Matt was the only normal one left? It hardly seemed fair.

"Elena, what the hell are you talking about? If this is a joke it's not funny," he said seriously, taking her by the shoulders. She shrugged his hands off easily and pushed him against the dumpster. The impact echoed through the empty bin and his eyes widened in surprise.

"I'm sorry," she apologized as her fangs suddenly appeared in her mouth. "I don't want to do this but I'm just so hungry…"

There was no conscious thought that passed through her mind between that moment and the next. Her body moved on instinct alone, wrapping around his the way a lover might and sinking its fangs into his neck. He gasped at the sudden intrusion but couldn't pull her off and the more blood she drained the weaker his struggles became.

She'd never thought it could be so wonderful. Taking blood from a living person was pure ecstasy. The donated blood did its duty but the anti-coagulants made it slow moving in her veins. Matt's blood was hot and raw and hit her like a solid punch of power. She could taste his strength and energy, feel it flow out of him and into her. It was so intimate. More intimate than sex. More intimate than anything she'd ever experienced before. She'd never felt so close to another person, never more fully aware of their existence. And yet here she was, draining her childhood best friend dry with absolutely no power to stop herself. Any voice of reason was quickly silenced by her hunger and the instant gratification of every swallow. If she wasn't careful she would kill him. Maybe she already had.

She screamed as a sudden, sharp pain stabbed through her back and jerked away. Matt's body dropped limp and lifeless to the ground. Her own was torn, fighting against itself. She could feel something moving through her, like a slow acting poison, to steal away her coordination and power. All that wonderful energy she'd sucked out of Matt was suddenly gone and she stumbled before collapsing to her knees on the ground. Furious and covered in blood, she looked up to find Damon staring down at her with disappointment written across his face and a syringe in his hand.

"Is that vervain?" she managed. It took an incredible amount of effort to force the words through the curtain of darkness that was steadily closing in on her world.

"I brought it just in case. I was really hoping I wouldn't have to use it," he answered quietly as he tucked it into his pocket.

Elena didn't say another word before collapsing to the pavement. Ignoring her for the moment, the black clad vampire checked on Matt and was relieved to feel a thready pulse in his wrist. Biting his own open, he forced it into the teen's mouth and waited for enough blood to trickle down his throat before stepping back. As he wrapped a handkerchief around his wrist he couldn't help but see the irony in his present situation. For decades it'd been Stefan cleaning up his messes and now he was the one on clean up duty.

Turning his attention to his little troublemaker, he knelt down and brushed the hair back from her face. She might hate him in the morning, but she'd hate herself even more if she killed her best friend. Her temporary anger was a price he was willing to pay if it meant he could prevent her from living with that kind of guilt. If there was anything that would destroy her, knowing that she'd hurt someone she cared about was it.

Matt's soft groan interrupted his thoughts and Damon resignedly got to his feet. Returning to Matt's side, he tilted his face upwards and looked him in the eye.

"Elena…" Matt slurred as his eyes searched for her without focusing on anything in particular.

"Matt, listen to me."

Damon waited patiently for the boy's eyes to meet his before continuing with his compulsion, "You came outside to get some fresh air and fell asleep. You didn't see Elena or I. You don't remember anything else that happened to you."

Matt nodded unsteadily.

"What do you remember?" Damon quizzed him, just to be sure.

"I came outside and fell asleep. I don't remember anything else."

Satisfied, he released him and returned to Elena. Picking her up, he hoisted her over his shoulder in a single swift motion and headed for the parking lot. Inside his pocket his phone buzzed to life. It was Stefan, no doubt wondering where they were. Casting a sour look at his brother's name on the caller display, he switched the device off and tucked it back into his pocket.

"Sorry, little brother. We're going to do this my way now."

* * *

><p><em>Author's Note: <em>Sorry about the delay guys! Had a couple of assignments due last week and no free time :( Hope you enjoy the update! As always, your thoughts and comments are appreciated.

Cheers,

Langus


	9. Chapter 8

It was hours before her senses slowly began to return. The scent of aged leather was fresh in her nose and she noticed the weight of Damon's jacket draped over her body. Her eyes stubbornly refused to open and for a moment she just listened. The car engine was humming beneath her feet and every so often a car would zip past her window. Beneath those sounds, she could make out the faint melody of Damon singing along with the radio.

Finally cracking an eye, she glanced over at him drumming the steering wheel with his fingertips.

"Ke$ha? Really?" she muttered with just the slightest hint of derision.

Unfazed by her censure, Damon's lips lifted in a small smile and he adjusted the volume knob of the radio. The car filled with the electronic dance beats of "Tik Tok."

"I thought you had better taste in music than this," she said, gesturing with a flip of her hand to the radio.

Damon laughed out loud and eased back against his seat. "This from a girl who keeps a signed Britney Spears single hidden in her underwear drawer."

"What does that-" Elena stopped abruptly as his words sank in. "How did you know about that?"

He smiled victoriously and quirked an eyebrow, "I know _all_ the secrets of your underwear drawer, Elena."

She frowned at him in disappointment, "Were you this much of a pervert in 1864?"

"Nope. Back then I was worse."

As her brain drifted further out of its sleepy haze she took stock of her surroundings and sat up straighter. Cars rushed by them on either side of the highway and by the looks of the vast stretches of farmland extending in every direction they were a long way from Virginia.

"Where are we?" she asked, not entirely sure she wanted to know the answer.

"On I59," Damon answered elusively.

"And why do I feel like I have a hangover from hell?"

Her head was pounding incessantly. Somehow she'd thought that become a vampire would make her immune to hangovers. Apparently she was wrong.

Damon's fingers faltered their drumming rhythm against the steering wheel and he kept his eyes on the road. "That would be the vervain. It does a real number on your system."

"You shot me with vervain?" The sudden tension that filled the car was palpable. Damon's expression hardened and Elena crossed her arms.

"You're right, my bad. I should have let you kill your childhood best friend," he replied with his usual biting sarcasm.

Elena's brows lifted in surprise and the fight quickly drained out of her. The memory slowly came back to her, just bits and pieces at a time. She could remember following Matt outside behind the club. He'd gone with her so willingly. She'd never known it could be so easy to compel someone but with him it'd been natural, like breathing.

The memory of how the salt on his neck had tasted and the richness of his blood as it travelled down her throat made her body burn with need. She was hungry for more. She needed blood. Suddenly every part of her felt like it was on fire, dried out and parched to the point where she would crack and break into a million pieces if she didn't get some blood inside of her soon.

She managed to push her craving aside long enough to ask, "Matt… Is he…?"

"He's fine," Damon reassured her with a grim smile. I compelled him and left him with Caroline.

A frown line formed between Elena's brows and she collapsed back against her seat. "She's going to hate me," she muttered.

Caroline was the one person who had been there for her, without hesitation, from the start. She'd helped her through her cravings and taught her that life as a vampire didn't have to be all doom and gloom. And she'd turned around and re-paid her by trying to drain her boyfriend dry.

"I'm a terrible person," she whispered, shocked by what she'd almost done. How could she possibly exist like this? She refused to spend the rest of her life destroying the lives of those closest to her. It wasn't the type of person she was. That was Katherine, not her.

"You're not a terrible person," Damon said, fixing her with a serious look. "You slipped up. It happens. You weren't ready to go out and we should've realized that. This is not your fault, Elena."

She didn't want to argue and she couldn't bear to admit that she was faultless, so instead she remained quiet and stared out the car window. The horizon was a brilliant ménage of colours – tones of yellow, peach and red. She admired the beauty of the sunset for a short while until it dawned on her that the sky wasn't getting darker, it was getting lighter. All around her the world was being bathed in daylight and she was trapped in a car without a day walking ring. Panicked, she turned to Damon who looked as calm as ever in the drivers' seat.

"Are you crazy?" she demanded, frantic. "Pull over now!"

Damon lifted a brow and tapped soundly on the tinted glass of his window.

"It's not legal, but it's dark enough to keep the sun out. The light can't hurt you as long as you stay inside the car."

"So I'm your prisoner now?" she demanded, feeling her anger towards him flare up once more.

"Till sunset, anyway," he reasoned with a slight shrug.

"And after that?"

"After that it's up to you, but if you want to have any chance of controlling your blood cravings I'd suggest staying far away from Mystic Falls."

At the mention of blood her mouth burned and her stomach clenched. Her hunger was getting worse and this time it wouldn't be ignored. Clutching her stomach, she doubled over and breathed through the pain.

Damon quickly leaned over, opened the glove box and tossed a blood bag at her.

"Never head out on a long drive without one," he advised, turning his attention back to the road.

Elena hardly heard his words. The moment the blood bag landed in her lap she had it in her mouth. The faint metallic taste of the anti-coagulants bloomed unpleasantly across her tongue, but it didn't stop her from sucking the bag dry. When it was empty she came up for air and licked the last of it from her lips.

"Better?" Damon asked with a sideways glance.

She nodded, still catching her breath. The blood's effect had been almost immediate. She could feel her head clearing and her body growing stronger. The last effects of the vervain burned away and she relaxed into her seat.

Another set of songs passed on the radio before she spoke up. "So where did you say we're going again?"

"I didn't," Damon answered with a smile, "but if you must know, we're headed to N'Orleans."

His sudden thick Cajun drawl put a smile on her lips. Maybe he was right. Maybe what she needed was to get as far away from the people she cared about as possible. If she wasn't constantly worried about hurting them or pleasing Stefan perhaps she could actually concentrate on herself and learn how to control her cravings properly.

Though she didn't approve of Damon's methods, he seemed to have the right idea. Maybe she would trust him for once. He'd never put her in harm's way before. Besides, she couldn't ignore the tiny thrill of excitement bubbling up inside her chest. This was the first time they'd had a chance to be alone together since their kiss. Who knew what could happen next?

oOo

Stefan made a vain attempt to dial Elena's number one last time. Just the same as his 67 other attempts, the operator's voice announced from the other end that her phone was currently unavailable. Quietly seething, he hung up and tossed his cellphone at the wall.

"Still no luck?" Caroline hesitantly stepped in from the hall and evaluated the dishevelled man in front of her. His shirt was unbuttoned nearly half way down his chest, his sleeves had been left to hang loose and his hair looked as if he hadn't stopped running his hands through it since they'd first discovered Elena missing.

"This is my fault," he moaned, lashing out at the wall. His fist made a slight impression in the wood but it held up rather well to the punishment. "I should have known something like this would happen."

Caroline agreed, but tactfully decided to remain mum on the subject. By the looks of it, Stefan had enough on his plate already.

"How's Matt?" he asked, suddenly collecting himself together. Caroline sighed and took up pacing by the fireplace.

"He's doing okay. I gave him some of my blood to help him heal faster. He doesn't remember what happened. I've tried to compel it out of him but all he keeps saying is that he doesn't remember."

"It must be Damon," Stefan said with a decisive nod. "He's the only one of us old enough and strong enough to outdo your powers of compulsion."

Caroline nodded in agreement and folded her arms across her chest.

"Do you have any idea where he might have taken her?" she asked, turning the subject back to Elena and Damon.

Stefan sighed heavily and raked his fingers through his hair. "I have no idea. Last time he took her to Georgia. God only knows where he'll decide to go this time."

"Maybe we just have to trust him," Caroline suggested with a shrug. Stefan turned on her, his expression incredulous.

"Well, it's not like he'd ever put her in danger," she said, standing her ground. "I think we both know that he cares for her."

Stefan exhaled sharply and retrieved his phone off the floor. Frustrated, he dialled Elena's number again and the operator's voice repeated its same message.

"Yeah," he answered, dropping his phone onto his desk in defeat. "That's exactly what I'm worried about."

_Author's Note: _I apologize for the delay in getting this chapter out. I had work and school commitments that had to come first. I hope you enjoy this new chapter!

Next one will feature the lovely New Orleans. Exactly what kind of trouble will Damon and Elena get themselves into, I wonder? Please leave a note! I'd love to hear your thoughts :)


	10. Chapter 9

It started with a tremor in her hand. Barely two hours had passed before the hunger returned. It came on slowly, the way a storm creeps ominously over the mountains, and became more intense with each passing minute.

She tried to distract herself with the radio, singing along to the various songs she knew but eventually her throat became too dry to sing and she was stuck fidgeting in her seat, watching the sun inch toward the horizon.

Damon eventually noticed her watching the clock, willing it to turn over faster, and distracted her for a while by telling her about the time he went backstage at an Aerosmith concert. It was in Boston, during their '74 _Get Your Wings_ tour, at the height of their popularity.

The party was exactly the kind of drug and alcohol induced orgy one would expect of 1970s rockers. Elena had little trouble picturing Damon with long hair, skin tight leather pants, and a wide open shirt. She could imagine how easily he might have fit in, attracting the attention of band groupies. It would have been a feast of epic proportions.

"When they're like that, does it change anything?" she wondered, suddenly curious.

"You mean the drugs?"

She nodded and he shrugged lightly.

"It makes them easier targets, but it doesn't change the blood. The chemicals they put into their bodies don't affect us the same way. Natural chemicals, on the other hand…"

He trailed off with a secretive smile and remained silent until she prodded him with an impatient, "What are you talking about?"

"Chemicals the body produces _naturally_ are an entirely different matter. They're a part of the blood, so when we drink we take them in as well. The effects don't last long, but sometimes it doesn't have to. Like endorphins, for instance. If you can time it _juuust_ right and bite someone at the exact moment they orgasm it's like stepping into heaven."

He grinned at her, looking far too pleased with himself, and she felt her cheeks burn with embarrassment. Of course he would have discovered that trick.

Rolling her eyes, she turned her attention to the sun setting along the horizon and attempted to mentally calculate how many hours she had left until freedom. Her best estimate was 2-3 and it'd already been 4 hours since her last taste of blood. The thought of trying to survive the next few hours without it was not a pleasant one. She could already barely keep her focus on anything for longer than a few seconds. Her legs were twitching and her skin felt like it was crawling with a thousand tiny ants. At this rate she'd be insane before the sun dipped below the horizon line.

"How are you holding out?"

She glanced up to find Damon eyeing her worriedly.

"I'm hungry," she ground out, feeling the words catch in her dry throat. "Do you carry emergency alcohol in your glove compartment too?"

Elena jerked the tiny door open and rifled through it in search of anything that could help take the edge off. Finding nothing, she slammed it shut again and flopped back against her seat.

"It's only another couple hours," he said, eyeing the horizon. "You'll manage."

"No, I won't manage," she snarled, feeling her ire swell up and fill her. "I'm _hungry_. I've never been more hungry in my life! If it wasn't absolutely certain I would burn to death, I would have jumped out of this moving car ages ago just to find some blood. Don't you get it? I'm not you, Damon. I haven't had 147 years to learn how to control my cravings! I'm hungry and I need blood now!"

"Alright, alright, don't get your panties in a twist." He rolled his eyes at her and shook his head in disgust.

"I wouldn't have thought it possible, but the longer you stay a vampire the more like Katherine you get."

Those words were the final push she needed to go from rational, logical Elena to the illogical creature she had become. Turning into a vampire hadn't been her choice, but she was damned if she was going to turn out like Katherine. In that case, she was better off dead.

Her face went blank as she quietly unclipped her seatbelt. The only thing that gave her true intentions away was the tiny lines around her mouth that revealed just how tight she was clenching her jaw. It would be painful, but with any luck it wouldn't last too long and then she'd finally be free of this incessant hunger.

From the drivers' seat, Damon sighed heavily and banged his head back against the headrest.

"Look, Elena-"

"No, you're right," she said, cutting him off. "Thank you, Damon, for everything."

Something in her tone must have alerted him because his head snapped to the right and his eyes widened with fear. He was fast, but not fast enough to stop her from opening the door and throwing herself out.

The force of the wind slammed the car door shut behind her and her body slammed hard into the gravel shoulder, tumbling end over end until it finally came to rest atop the black asphalt. There was pain in her ribs and shoulder and she was certain that at least one of her arms was broken, but none of that compared the pain of the sun.

Its scorching heat burned against her skin, leaving her writhing and screaming atop the ground. She could feel the blisters forming and the scent of charred flesh filled her nose. A part of her regretted ever leaving the car, but another part of her, the strong, stubborn side of her that had remained after she'd turned, knew it was for the best. There was no other way to protect the people she cared about and prevent herself from becoming the exact thing she hated.

It could have been seconds or minutes, she wasn't sure which, but the sun made her weak to the point where she couldn't move. The pain was still there, burning like fire across her skin, but she lacked the energy to even scream. In the distance she heard her name being shouted and felt guilty. She hadn't wanted to do this to him. He'd already lost one woman he loved; she couldn't bear to think about what would become of him if he lost her too. Would he regress into the man she'd met when he'd first arrived in Mystic Falls – a callous, malicious, psychopath – or would he continue to be the better man she'd seen him become over the past year?

The scent of leather suddenly filled her nose and for a moment, anyway, the pain stopped. It faded into the ache that follows a nasty sunburn and she breathed a quiet sigh of relief. As determined as she was to do this, she wasn't strong enough. Even as a vampire her fear of death was insurmountable, perhaps moreso.

She felt her body being lifted off the ground and winced inwardly at the pain that flared through her shoulder. It was broken or dislocated, one or the other, but in this state she was too weak to even cry out.

"Elena! Answer me, Elena!"

There was panic underlying his tone, and fear. His arms gripped her tighter and he shook her, hard enough to extract a moan. She heard him utter a shuddering sigh and felt the wind through her shirt. He was running. Back to the car? Into the forest? She couldn't be sure. With his coat covering her head all she could do was listen – to the breath in his lungs, the crunch of gravel beneath his feet, and the muttered reassurances he offered every few seconds.

"Just hang on, I've got you," he promised and she knew it to be true. He would always take care of her, always protect her, and it wasn't because she reminded him of Katherine or he wanted to make Stefan jealous. He loved her, perhaps more intensely than anyone in her life had ever loved her, and he needed no other reason but that.

The car door opened with a click of the handle and she felt the cool relief of the shade in the car's back seat. Damon draped a blanket over her and took back his jacket. She could hear him slip it over his shoulders and shift his feet atop the gravel.

"I'll be right back. Don't you dare leave this car," he ordered, "or so help me, Elena, I'll kill you myself."

With that he slammed the door shut and then there was only silence. In his absence, she became fully aware of her injuries. There was a large gash in her scalp that had blood trickling in sticky streams down her neck. One of her feet felt like it was twisted and there were countless scrapes and patches of road rash across her limbs. Her entire body ached. It screamed for the blood it needed to heal itself, but she had nothing to offer. If her craving had been bad before, it was absolutely unbearable now.

It could have been minutes or hours before Damon finally returned. Her mind lost the ability to keep track of time and she was barely aware enough to open her eyes when he finally pulled the door open.

In his absence, the sun had set low enough on the horizon that its rays became lost in the dense forest. Without a word, Damon picked her up and carried her to the trunk. He laid her down across it and then stepped away. She was vaguely aware of him speaking to someone but she couldn't make out what he was saying or who he was speaking with. The next moment he was back, pressing something to her lips.

Even half-conscious, she could smell the blood and obeyed his order to drink without hesitation. Her body was too injured for her fangs to emerge so the process was slow, but it had the desired effect. She could feel her bones knitting themselves together and her skin healing over its many wounds. The process was incredible to experience and it left her in a state of awe. There'd been so much damage and only a little bit of blood was able to piece her back together.

As she became stronger and more aware, her fangs emerged and she bit down, feeling the blood shoot down her throat. She drank long and hard, desperate for more. It was only once she felt her victim's pulse began to weaken that she opened her eyes to look up into their face.

It was a young man, no older than 20. He was wearing a backpack and sported a few days worth of stubble across his cheeks. _Hitchhiker_. The thought came to her suddenly and she didn't doubt it for a moment. Seeing his eyelids flutter, she abruptly pulled back terrified that she'd already killed him.

It hadn't been enough. She needed more blood to repair the damage, but she couldn't bring herself to do it. He had a family. He had friends. She had no right to take his life to save her own.

"I can't," she cried out, pushing his arm away. "I can't do it."

"You need the blood," Damon seethed, holding the boy's arm out to her. She looked at it longingly, then shut her mouth and shook her head.

"No."

Damon looked like he was ready to press the issue with whatever means were necessary, but the boy's sudden collapse ended all discussion on the matter. While Damon checked his pulse and pulled him off the road, Elena hopped off the trunk of the car and walked round to the passenger side. There, she examined her reflection in the side mirror and took stock of the damage.

Considering how bad she had been, her recovery was nothing short of remarkable. Her skin was still red in some places, the after effects of the burns that hadn't yet healed, but otherwise she was fine. And with blood in her system she finally felt like herself again. No more twitching, edginess or short tempered tantrums. If only she could stay like this without being a slave to blood.

Before she had the chance to fully open her door, Damon came up behind her and slammed it shut with his hand. Knowing what was coming, she turned to face him and braced for the worst.

"Don't you _ever_ do that again," he threatened evenly. His eyes bore into hers, searching them for signs of acknowledgment.

She blew out a quiet sigh and nodded, "I'm sorry."

"Promise me," he demanded, grabbing hold of her hands, "Promise me you will never try to do anything like that again."

"I promise," she answered with a sincere look. She had no need to lie to him. Once was enough. She never wanted to go through that again.

He exhaled a heavy sigh of relief and pulled her against his chest. He was solid and warm and she indulged in the feel of his body against hers. Her arms wrapped around his waist and held him tight. For the moment she was content not to move, or speak, or do anything other than exist with him.

"I can't lose you," he said gently.

"I know," she replied, feeling the guilt weighing heavily in her chest. Pulling back to give him a small smile she added, "I'm sorry."

His fingers brushed the hair back from her temple and caressed the side of her face. With a furrowed brow he inspected the burns that remained and then opened the car door for her.

"Come on," he said, gesturing for her to get in, "We need to get you some more blood."

She obeyed, slipping back into her seat and pulling her seatbelt on out of habit. Damon waited until she'd clicked it into place before shutting the door behind her and getting in himself. He was quiet the rest of the way to New Orleans. Beneath the low din of the radio, the only sound to permeate the silence was the incessant, nervous drum of his fingers against the steering wheel.

* * *

><p><em>Author's Note:<em> Had a last minute change of heart with this chapter. Hope you guys don't mind. We'll be headed to New Orleans in the next instalment. As always, I'd love to hear your thoughts! Stay tuned for more!


	11. Chapter 10

Damon pulled his car up to a rundown shotgun house in Faubourg Marigny and killed the engine.

"We're here," he announced as he got out of the car.

Feeling more like herself with a stomach full of O negative blood bank donations, Elena hesitantly opened the car door and took stock of the house's dilapidated porch and peeling paint.

"It's a little Ann Rice, don't you think?"

"It's perfect," he assured her before disappearing inside.

Within moments lights began to turn on in various rooms and curiosity eventually led her to follow him inside. The place smelled musty, like water logged wood and old books. She wrinkled her nose as she stepped through the door and inspected the interior.

To her surprise, it wasn't nearly as bad as she'd expected. Damon was in the process of removing drop cloths from various pieces of furniture and she was surprised to find the place rather nicely decorated.

"Whose house is this?" she wondered, caressing her hand over an antique wooden table.

"Don't know, don't care," Damon answered, tossing the last of the drop cloths to the floor. Elena fixed him with a suspicious look.

"Damon…"

"I'm trying to teach you something, _Elena_," he said teasingly, taking her by the shoulders. "If you want to leave Mystic Falls any time in the next century or two, this might come in handy."

She huffed a sigh and looked up at him expectantly.

"When you go to a new place, look in the real estate listings for foreclosures. Find one that's been around for a while and that's far enough away from other homes to be discrete. As long as you don't burn the place down, no one will ever know you were there."

She looked around the old house's spacious living room with a new sense of appreciation. She had to admit that the prospect of being able to stay in her own place, and far away from people she could hurt, was appealing.

Her question of where he'd learned such a trick was abruptly silenced when she realized he'd disappeared into the next room, leaving her to her own devices. Her eyes lifted to the intricate crown moulding that decorated the ceiling. Angelic cherub faces smiled down at her and she smiled back before taking a turn about the room.

"Why New Orleans?" she asked aloud when she heard Damon rummaging around in the kitchen.

"Because it's fun," he answered, reappearing with a bottle of something alcoholic and two glasses in his hands. "Besides, I've got a soft spot for this place. I spent a lot of time here after I was first changed."

He set the glasses down on the table and poured a finger's worth of alcohol into each. "How about a toast," he suggested, holding one out to her. She took a sniff of whatever was inside and 'hmmm'd in approval. It was rum - the dark stuff, nice and strong.

"What are we toasting to?" she asked, allowing herself to relax a little.

Damon took a moment to survey the room and shrugged lightly, "How about to the recession?"

Elena felt a wry smile pull at her lips and nodded in agreement, "To the recession then."

They tossed back their drinks and felt the familiar burn of well-aged alcohol in their throats. Elena exhaled in a rush and set her glass down atop the table. The sudden silence that followed was filled with unspoken words. They weighed down the air, crowding the room until they became too imposing to ignore.

When she felt brave enough to glance up, she found him watching her. The expression in his blue eyes told her things she wasn't ready to hear uttered aloud. She'd managed to avoid talking about it during their drive by feigning sleep, but now that they were alone it was inevitable. They'd have to talk about what had happened sooner rather than later, but she wasn't ready.

Her gaze lingered on his lips and a part of her very much wanted to continue what they'd started earlier. Her body was drawn to his in a way she couldn't understand. For so long they'd walked the line between love and hate. What were they now? What kind of relationship could possibly exist between them, especially with Stefan to consider?

Thoughts of Stefan ignited her guilty conscience, forcing her to take a much needed step back. She pulled in a deep breath and let it out slowly, offering Damon an apologetic look. He disguised his disappointment beneath a tight smile.

"Come on," he said, setting down his glass, "It's time you had some fun."

oOo

"Did you bring it?"

Stefan removed Elena's journal from his bag and handed it to the witch. She eyed him suspiciously as he took a seat across from her and with good cause. In the short time since he and Damon had returned to Mystic Falls there had been little reprieve from the constant stream of dead bodies cropping up. Not all were their fault, of course, but where they went trouble followed and Bonnie was well aware of it.

"Are you sure this will work?" he speculated.

Bonnie shot him an impatient look and set the book down between them on the table.

"It will work, but I'm not sure you're going to like what you find."

"I'm bringing her back, Bonnie," he determined without hesitation. "She needs to be around people who care about her."

"Damon cares about her," she pointed out archly.

Stefan scowled and looked away. He knew all too well just how much his brother _cared_ for his girlfriend. That was another reason he couldn't wait. The longer she was with Damon, the greater the chance that he'd manipulate her, twist her mind inside out until she didn't know which way was up. Manipulation was Damon's specialty and he used it without remorse to get what he wanted. Elena was no exception.

Across from him, Bonnie softly cleared her throat and closed her eyes. Her hands hovered over Elena's journal for a moment and her brow furrowed in concentration.

"They're in New Orleans," she said with certainty, slowly opening her eyes. Stefan lifted a brow in surprise at the distance, but didn't let it dissuade him from his goal. With a nod, he got to his feet.

"Remember what I said," Bonnie warned as he reached the door. She repeated the threat she'd levelled at him when he'd first approached her about Elena's transformation.

"If she has taken so much as one human life nothing - not threats, torture or death - will convince me to make a day walking ring for her. I will not have another murdering blood sucker roaming loose and putting innocent lives in danger."

A knot of worry twisted in Stefan's stomach but he nodded and answered with a firm, "I understand."

"Just so long as we're clear," Bonnie stated before retreating into the kitchen. Stefan stared after her a moment and exhaled a quiet sigh of frustration.

For all he knew, it could already be too late. If only Damon had kept her in Mystic Falls he could have protected her. He could have kept her from hurting anyone and she would already possess a day walking ring. Now her entire future depended on Damon's ability to practice restraint and self control.

Fear pooled in the pit of his stomach and he left quickly out the door.

oOo

They stumbled off the dance floor after their fourth straight song and collapsed in an exhausted heap in their booth.

"That was amazing!" Elena exhaled a whoop of excitement and lay back against the leather to catch her breath. "I didn't know you could dance like that!"

Damon grinned slyly at her approval. "You're not so bad yourself," he complimented while motioning to the waiter to bring them another round of drinks.

The club was an authentic underground swing hall, complete with a live brass band, cocktails, and a fine cloud of cigar smoke hanging in the air. It served the best bourbon in town, according to Damon, who'd required only the slightest bit of convincing to get her to come with him.

Drink in hand, Elena surveyed him with a careful look and said rather plainly, "I didn't expect this from you."

He shrugged and took a well-timed sip of his drink, "That's not surprising, really. You don't know a thing about me."

"That's not true," she protested, "I know that Pride & Prejudice is one of your favourite books."

He nodded indulgently and waved at the air with his hand.

"Sure, but what are my hobbies? Who's my favourite musician? How do I take my coffee?"

He lifted a brow expectantly and looked satisfied when she blew out a frustrated sigh.

"Like any of that stuff is important when you're a vampire," she protested.

In spite of his laughter she added, "I know you have good taste in books, terrible taste in music and that under that big bad older brother exterior you're actually a decent guy."

"You think so?" he trailed off with a devious gleam in his eye.

She nodded and took a greedy sip of her drink to quell her hunger. Damon had kept her well plied with alcohol and distracted with dancing, but it wasn't enough to make her forget her craving for more than an hour or two. Even now, she could feel it sneaking back in the form of a small knot in the pit of her stomach.

Damon eyed her a moment and then casually got up from the table. "I'll be back," he reassured her. She watched him head off in the direction of the dance floor, only looking away once he was swallowed up by the crowd.

Though he'd only been teasing her, his words were a painful reminder that there was a lot she didn't know about him. From the time Katherine was locked in the tomb to the day he entered her life, 147 years were missing. A lot could have happened during that time and there were so many ways he could have changed. She wanted to know it all, but it'd be next to impossible if he wasn't willing to let her in.

She looked up in time to catch him emerging from the crowd. He gave her a brief smile and slid into the booth across from her.

"Why did you spend so much time here after you transitioned?" she wondered, fingering the smooth stem of her cocktail glass.

Damon glanced over at her briefly before focusing his attention on the band.

"The city felt alive. When you're surrounded by death, being close to this kind of energy makes you feel normal for a while."

"But it didn't last?"

"Nothing does," he answered.

"How long did you stay?"

"About a decade. I came and went but I tried to stay close to the city for the first little while. After that…" he left off with a shrug.

A decade was a long time. She had to wonder how he got by all that time without someone noticing disappearances or sudden cases of animal attacks. She was tempted to ask when one of the dancing couples suddenly broke away from the pack and headed towards their table.

Elena took one glance at their flushed cheeks and the light sheen of sweat shimmering on their chests and felt her hunger flare. She squirmed uncomfortably in her seat as they approached and moved as far back as the booth would allow.

"Mind if we join you?" the woman asked. "We saw you dancing earlier. You two are really something! Are you new in town?"

Without waiting for an invitation she plunked down next to Elena, her red curls bobbing about her shoulders. Her partner offered them both a shy smile and slid gracefully into the booth next to Damon.

"We're just visiting. Tourists, you know…" Damon answered smoothly while Elena did her best to control herself. Being this close to another human being was testing every ounce of her willpower. She forced a tight smile for their guests and nodded in agreement.

Suddenly Damon turned to the man sitting next to him and suggested that he get them another round from the bar. Though it would have been invisible to anyone else, Elena knew compulsion when she saw it and instantly grew suspicious. What was he up to?

Once the man was gone, he turned his attention to the woman and gave her a charming smile.

"Elena could use a bit of space, why don't you join me on my side?" he offered, gesturing to the seat next to him. She agreed without the slightest hesitation and cozied up next to him. Elena narrowed her eyes in suspicion.

"Damon…" she said, giving him a warning look.

"You'll have to forgive her, she's a little rude around strangers," Damon apologized for her, turning his full attention to the blushing red-head seated next to him.

"Oh, no need to be shy," the girl gushed with a wave of her hand. "New Orleans has some of the friendliest folk you'll ever meet."

Elena nodded stiffly and glared daggers at Damon. Couldn't he tell this was torturing her?

"Care for a drink?" Damon offered, sliding his glass of bourbon towards their guest.

"Don't mind if I do," she giggled with a playful wink. She took a dainty sip and offered him a coy smile over the rim of the glass.

"I don't believe we caught your name?" he said, luring her in with a flirtatious glance Elena knew all too well.

"Oh, silly me!"

In her haste to set Damon's drink down so she could offer her hand, she smashed the vessel into the table. The scent of blood and whiskey bloomed in the air, filling the air inside their booth. Elena tried to hold her breath, but it was already too late. From the first hint of blood her eyes began to change. She glanced up, transfixed by the small amount of blood that had pooled in the girl's palm.

"You must think I'm a total klutz," the girl sighed, with a disappointed glance at Damon.

Elena found it so ironic she almost smiled. This poor creature had no idea what they thought of her. They could have cared less if she was a klutz. To them she was nothing more than a walking, talking blood bag and Elena wanted so badly to bed fed.

"That cut looks nasty," Damon interrupted with a soft 'tsk'. "I'll go see if they have any bandages at the bar. Stay here with Elena."

Compulsion, again!

"Damon! Damon, please!" she called after him, practically begging. Was he really going to leave her alone with a bleeding woman? He knew she had no control! What was wrong with him?

His black clad shirt was soon swallowed up by the crowd and she felt panic set in. There was no way she'd be able to do this without him, no way she'd be able to keep herself from taking this poor girl's life right here in the middle of the club.

Turning to her unaware victim, she held her gaze and compelled her to leave.

"Listen to me very carefully," she said, praying it would work, "Leave now. Don't ask questions. Don't wait for your boyfriend. Just leave."

"I can't," the girl answered back, her tone flat.

Elena's eyes went wide. Why wasn't her compulsion working?

"Why not?" she pleaded, grabbing hold of her arm and pushing her towards the edge of the booth.

"Because I told her not to."

Elena snapped her head around to find Damon sitting across from her, looking calm and collected.

"What are you doing, Damon? Do you want me to kill her?" she nearly screamed at him.

He shrugged a shoulder and leaned back against his seat. "Do you want to kill her?"

Her eyes were drawn once more to the blood staining her victim's palm and the droplets that had created a small pool atop the table. She didn't want to kill her, but she wanted her blood more than anything at the moment. She didn't care about being seen or getting caught. She just wanted to be fed.

She felt her body draw closer, lured in by the tantalizing scent directly in front of her.

"Go on," Damon said with an encouraging nod. "Do it. Don't fight your nature. This is what you are now."

Angry, she pulled back and glared at him. "This is not what I am, Damon. I'm still me. I'm the same girl I've always been."

"You're a vampire," he shot back.

"I'm-" She was going to retort with something snarky, but quickly shut her mouth. He was right. What else was she now, but a vampire? She wasn't human anymore. She wasn't a high school student anymore. She was a creature that fed on the blood of other people.

"Do what feels natural," Damon urged her. She watched him swipe up a few drops of blood from the table and enjoy the taste of them on his tongue. "She really is sweet."

Unable to resist any longer, Elena bent her head to the hand that was offered to her and tasted what she'd longed for. Damon was right, she did taste sweet. Her blood was soothing, like homemade apple pie fresh out of the oven. It was easy to forget that she was a person, forget that if she didn't stop now this innocent girl who'd come out to have a fun night with her boyfriend would no longer exist. What right did she have to end her life, or anyone's life for that matter, just to keep herself fed?

With a cry, she tore herself away and wiped the blood from her lips. Damon was quick to lean across the table and compel their seat mate to leave. She did without a glance back and the moment she was gone Elena felt like she could finally breathe again.

She looked up to find Damon giving her a cautious smile. "Congratulations," he said, "You did it."

It took a long moment before her face returned to normal, but when it did she fixed him with the coldest look she could manage.

"I hate you," she bit out, rejoicing as his smile vanished.

Grabbing her jacket, she promptly stormed out of the club not giving a single damn if he followed.

xXx

The creeping approach of dawn forced her unwillingly back to the house they'd taken over. Damon was waiting for her outside, sitting atop the hood of his car.

"Still angry?" he teased with a smirk.

She stopped in front of him and crossed her arms in front of her chest. "If you're asking if I've forgiven you yet, the answer is no. I don't know if I ever will."

"Oh, come on," he pleaded, jumping down. "Look, you needed some real world experience and I gave it to you."

She made a 'tsk' of disgust and turned her back. "What if I'd killed her?"

"So what if you had?"

"_So what_? Damon! She's a person!" she screamed at him. "Just the thought that I might someday kill someone is eating me alive!"

Damon's hand on her shoulder was soothing but she stubbornly shrugged it off. She was too angry with him to want his touch and too angry with herself to feel that she deserved consoling.

"It'll happen eventually. Someday, you are going to kill someone."

"I won't-"

"But you will. It will be an accident and you'll be gutted for days, maybe even weeks, and then you'll get over it. You'll get over it because you'll realize that this is what you are now. There's _us_ and there's _them_. The sooner you stop trying to straddle the line between them, the better off you'll be."

"I don't want to be you," she lashed out at him. He looked wounded for a brief moment, but was quick to hide it behind a teasing smile.

"And just an hour ago you were telling me that there was a nice guy beneath my _bad guy exterior_."

She scowled at the reminder and eased herself atop the hood of his car. He sat next to her but respected her space enough to not try and touch her again.

"Why are you fighting this so hard?" he demanded, his tone softening.

"Because…" she answered just as softly, "I don't want to be responsible for killing anyone else."

"Elena, you haven't killed anyone."

"Haven't I? You weren't there, Damon… My parents are _dead_ because of me. I can't allow that to happen again. Not ever again."

Damon looked at her wide-eye and she felt herself breaking. The thought had been there every morning since the accident, when she awoke to the realization that it hadn't been a dream – "You did this," it said. In the months that followed she'd never found the courage to tell anyone else – not Bonnie, not Caroline, Jeremy or Jenna. They wouldn't understand. They'd tell her she was wrong and that everything would be fine. But it wasn't fine. It was never going to be fine because her parents were dead and it was entirely her fault.

She was thankful for the strong arms that suddenly wrapped around her and held her tight. He held her while she cried and then gently pulled away to cradle her face between his hands.

"Elena, I want you to listen to me very carefully," he said, his blue eyes searching hers. "What happened to your parents was an accident. There is nothing anyone could have done to prevent it."

She opened her mouth to protest but he interrupted her, intent on forcing her to hear him out.

"Listen to what I'm saying. Fate takes us when it's our time. Your parents were destined to die. If it hadn't been that night, it would have been another. Do you see what I'm saying? It wasn't your fault."

Elena shook her head, refusing to listen. "I called them. I made them come pick me up at that party. I killed them, Damon! I-"

His lips pressed against hers, silencing whatever protest she was ready to make. Angry, she pulled away and slapped him hard against his chest. He let her, and it felt good, so she struck him again and again. She pounded him with her fists until he gathered her hands in his and pulled her against him.

"I take my coffee black, sometimes with a little milk," he whispered against the shell of her ear. She stopped struggling and collapsed against him, feeling the comforting touch of his warm breath against her cheek.

"My hobbies are hunting, reading and of course dancing, but you know that already. If you want me to list my favourite artists it might take a while. And we'll have to go by decade."

When he was finished, she glanced up at him with uncertainty in her gaze. "Why are you telling me this?"

"Because," he said, brushing a strand of hair back from her face, "I wanted you to know."

He reluctantly pulled away to study her features in the predawn light. "And now that you're a vampire, your girlie punches actually kind of hurt."

A reluctant smile lifted her lips and she wiped the last of the tears from her cheeks.

"Still think I'm good on the inside?" he teased light-heartedly.

"Absolutely not," she declared, with no vehemence at all.

His hand lifted to softly caress her cheek and she closed her eyes, comforted by such a gentle touch. For all his faults, he reminded her of what it felt like to be human and she needed that more than she needed to hold on to her anger.

"We can't do this," she whispered as his lips brushed her cheek and she slipped her arms around his neck.

"I know," he whispered back.

His arm swept under her, lifting her off the car's hood. The looming sunrise halted their discussion, but it was only a temporary reprieve. For the next 12 hours they would be trapped inside and there were a lot of things that needed to be said. She was far from ready, but she couldn't put it off any longer. It wasn't fair to either of them.

Come nightfall, everything would be different, but for the moment she could still pretend to have it all. And so she rested her head against his shoulder and let him carry her across the threshold.

* * *

><p><em>Author's Note: <em>I'm sorry for the delay in getting this chapter up, but since it's extra long hopefully you'll forgive me :) Happy reading and of course I'd love to hear your comments if you've got the time!


	12. Chapter 11

Stefan took a seat at a small table outside Café du Monde and flipped open the newspaper to the housing section. He scanned the ads, circling any that piqued his interest. Though he was eager to find Elena as soon as possible, with the sun high in the sky she wouldn't be out roaming the streets. He had time to spare and didn't intend to waste it searching all over town when a bit of careful planning would increase his chances of finding her.

The waitress returned and placed a plate of beignets in front of him. They were almost white from the layers of icing sugar dusting their tops.

"Here you are," she said with a warm smile, "and here's your coffee."

"Thank you very much," he answered with feeling. The girl blushed and nervously rushed off to take care of her next table.

Stefan glanced dismissively at the beignets and picked up his coffee. The dark roast tasted good, even better than he remembered. Much like the café itself, the fare had changed little since its first days in the French Market. He could remember long afternoons spent at one of the café's outside tables, watching people from every walk of life pass on by. Some he'd mark out as future prey, while others he'd spend hours pondering over what their story might be.

Setting down his coffee with a nostalgic sigh, Stefan returned the paper to its front page and began scanning the headlines. A part of him didn't want to know. If Damon had taken her on a murdering rampage through New Orleans, he wasn't sure he could live with the guilt. The thought of killing his brother was tempting, but whether he liked it or not, Elena cared for him too. Killing Damon would only drive a deeper wedge between them.

It took until he'd finished the plate of beignets and his third cup of coffee to finish reading through every headline and story. Quietly folding the paper in half, he set it atop the table and breathed a quiet sigh of relief. Perhaps he'd underestimated his brother. Maybe he'd finally grown a conscience and realized that there was more at stake than his having a good time? It sounded nothing like the Damon he knew, but if his brother had shown him anything in the last 147 years it was that he could be unpredictable.

Taking in a deep breath, Stefan retrieved the paper and flipped it open the housing section once more. He stared down at the locations he'd circled; two were close to the downtown and five more were on the outskirts. It wouldn't take long. By nightfall he'd have Elena back and they could finally go home.

xXx

Elena discretely eyed Damon over the top of her cards. He was preoccupied with shuffling the used half of the deck and didn't notice her gaze, or maybe he did and didn't mind. Going into this, she hadn't known what to expect. Would he make a move? Would he make her feel even guiltier than she already did for the choice she would have to make? She'd braced for the worst and yet two hours and two 40s of whiskey split between them later, she was still waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Damon glanced up and their eyes met.

"Your turn," he pointed out with a shrewd smile.

At present, they were fishing for truth – an idea spawned out of Damon's suggestion that they play a drinking game to pass the time. Accepting that 12 hours of awkward tension was more than she was prepared to handle, she readily took him up on the offer.

Wearing his trademark mischievous grin, Damon had blithely suggested strip poker and she'd countered with "Go Fish". The compromise was a strange combination of the two; on the surface it was safe, but the limitless range of questions left them both sweating between rounds.

Elena lifted a speculative brow and studied his poker face, hedging her bets. "Seven."

He reluctantly handed over the card with an audible sigh and waited expectantly for her question.

"What did you do before you were turned? Did you have a job, or have you always been a freeloader?"

His brows lifted at the playful snark in her tone, but he let the insult slide.

"I was a soldier in the continental army." When she gave him a dubious look, he offered her a playful salute and then dealt out a new hand.

"Well…for about three months anyway."

"What happened?"

He waved a disapproving finger at her and sat back. "Ah, ah! One question per round – your rules, not mine."

Elena pouted and grudgingly picked up her cards. There wasn't a single pair in the bunch! Blowing out a frustrated sigh, she waited for Damon to make his move. He pursed his lips and flipped through his cards, then asked for a Queen.

Elena stared down at the single Queen in her hand, the Queen of Hearts, and reluctantly handed it over.

"My turn…," he threatened, grinning wickedly. "What colour are your panties?"

"Damon!"

He feigned innocence and held up his hands in defence. "What? You said we were playing for truth. I figured I might as well make it fun."

"Pervert…" she muttered under her breath. Smiling to himself, he shuffled the deck and dealt.

The next hand was hers and she sat back against the couch, contemplating her next question. "Why did you leave the army?"

"A lot of reasons," he said with an indifferent shrug. "You wouldn't believe what people are willing to do to each other in the name of 'freedom' and 'justice'. It wasn't something I wanted to be a part of. My father didn't take it well, of course, but then we didn't see eye to eye on much."

Elena frowned down at her hand and shifted the cards around. She'd heard a bit about their father from Stefan. Giuseppe Salvatore was a proud and stubborn man, who was unwilling to compromise his principles. He and Damon couldn't be any more different. It couldn't have been easy for him to grow up with such heavy expectations put on his shoulders.

She looked up to find his eyes distant, focused on another time and long faded memories. Catching her eye, he smiled apologetically and drained the rest of the whiskey from his glass.

"Besides," he added offhandedly, "being in the army meant that I had to be away from Katherine and I wasn't about to let Stefan have her all to himself."

Elena couldn't help rolling her eyes. "I still can't understand what either of you saw in her. She's just so…mean."

"Well, that was part of her charm," Damon enlightened her. "She was cunning, manipulative, dangerous and beautiful. She was just about the most exciting person to ever visit Mystic Falls. It was hard _not_ to fall for her."

Elena frowned down at her cards. She wasn't sure why hearing Damon talk about Katherine like that bothered her, but it did. Katherine was a selfish, conniving, manipulative, ruthless killer. She told herself that they were nothing alike, but as her eyes lingered on Damon a soft voice in the back of her mind whispered ,"Are you?"

For a year she had freely judged Katherine for stringing Stefan and Damon along. She'd manipulated them, fed on them and compelled them, all while claiming she loved them both. It was ridiculous and cruel. There was a time when she'd even thought it impossible. But things had changed. She'd changed. Looking at the dark haired man sitting across from her, with his strong jaw, playful, ever-present smile, and soulful blue eyes, she knew exactly how Katherine had felt. It was possible to love them both. What was impossible was choosing between them.

"Your turn."

Damon's voice dragged her way from her thoughts and she gave him a sheepish look.

"You okay?" he asked, a flicker of concern momentarily stealing away his smile.

She nodded and tossed down her cards. "Just hungry," she confessed, rubbing at her stomach. "I need something to distract me."

It wasn't a complete lie. The hunger had been present for a while, its gnawing ache growing steadily stronger with each quarter hour. The alcohol helped, but it could only do so much and she didn't trust herself to get completely wasted around him. She knew what would happen if she did. Her sense of guilt and affection towards Stefan were just about the only things holding her back.

"I can think of a few things to keep you occupied," Damon grinned devilishly, "but you're not gonna like any of them."

"Can you think of any that are PG rated?"

He poured them both a fresh drink as he considered some ideas. Eventually he got to his feet and offered her a hand up.

"Come on," he said, pulling her towards the back of the house. "I've got just the thing."

He led her through the kitchen and what had once been a study into the last room. Once inside, he stepped aside and gestured towards the bed. It had been stripped of its pillows and blankets and was little more than a sad mattress propped atop an even sadder looking metal frame.

"You can't be serious," she chided, crossing her arms.

"Honestly, you should get your mind out of the gutter," he teased with a grin. "I was merely going to suggest a PG-rated round of jumping on the bed."

A hesitant smile lifted a corner of her mouth and she fixed him with a cautious look. "Really?"

"Come on. When's the last time you let loose and jumped on a bed?"

She didn't need any further convincing. It _had_ been a long time. Perhaps being reckless and young and silly was exactly what she needed. Pushing him to the side, she raced for the bed and managed to hop on first. He joined her a heartbeat later and soon they were jumping atop the small mattress, laughing out loud as the old springs squeaked and groaned in protest.

"Having fun yet?"

"Yes!" she laughed breathlessly, grinning wide.

Falling back against the mattress, she paused to catch her breath and was still giggling when Damon flopped down next to her.

"Feel better?" he prodded, slipping his hands behind his head.

"Much. Thank you," she said sincerely. He smiled faintly in return and she saw the sadness return to his eyes. Just as quickly it was gone and he turned his face towards the ceiling.

"If I knew it was this easy to get you into bed, I would've suggested it ages ago!"

The hollow humour behind the joke resounded as loudly as the silence that followed it. She wasn't laughing and neither was he. Exhaling a quiet sigh, she turned onto her side to face him.

"Why do you do that?"

"Do what?" he replied, feigning indifference.

"You know what I mean."

He pulled in a deep sigh and let it out before answering. She could see his reluctance in the way his jaw was slowly working, chewing over the words he didn't want to say.

"The first year is the hardest. The cravings, the emotions, coming to terms with the loss of your humanity - none of it's easy. I'm not going to add to that. Right now, you need to focus on you. That's how it should be."

"Not talking about it doesn't make it easier and it doesn't resolve anything," she pointed out dryly. "Come on, Damon. We're two adults. We should be able to talk about this."

"What is there to talk about?" he demanded, propping his head up on his hand. "We both know what your decision will be. Why don't you just say it out loud so we can both move on."

"That's not fair." Sighing in frustration, she pushed herself into a sitting position and crossed her arms in front of her chest. "It's not that simple."

"Yes, it is that simple, Elena. Do you love me, or him?"

There it was - the question she'd been dreading from the moment this had all begun. Katherine would have kept them both, but she'd sworn to herself that she would never become like her. And so she was left floundering in a tumultuous sea of her own creation. She knew instantly what her heart wanted and just as torturously, what it could never have.

"I can't-," she stammered, struggling to get the words out.

His hands took hold of her face as his eyes searched hers. "Do you love him?" His voice caught ever so slightly on the last syllable and her heart wrenched inside her chest.

"Yes," she answered softly.

Seeing the faint glimmer of hope fade completely from his eyes very nearly destroyed her. He pulled away slowly, no fight left in his limbs.

"That settles it then," he said quietly, sliding off the bed. He made it to the door before she finally found her voice.

"Damon, wait…"

His feet eventually slid to a halt atop the aged wooden floor. He inclined his head enough to listen, but not enough to face her. This angered her more than anything and for the moment she was thankful for it, thankful that she could focus on something other than guilt and regret. Fuelled by her ire, she pushed up off the bed and stormed towards him.

"What was so wrong with letting me know how you felt?" she demanded, pulling him around to face her. "Why did you have to compel me after?"

"Because it didn't matter," he shouted, exasperated. "How I felt then, how I feel now, none of it matters."

"It matters to me." Her hand squeezed his arm gently, pleading for understanding.

"Is that supposed to be reassuring?" he said bitterly, pulling his arm away. Shocked, she stepped back and studied the hard, stubborn set of his jaw and the tense way his shoulders hunched forward.

"You know, I think I finally understand why Katherine chose Stefan all those years ago," she wagered, with a hard look. The expression that crossed his features was dark, darker than she'd ever seen.

"Low blow, Elena," he chided softly, his voice vibrating with restraint. Pushing away from the wall, he stalked toward the living room and she followed close at his heels.

"You didn't fight for her either, did you? Once you found out she loved Stefan that was it. You gave up, just like you're doing now."

"What do you want from me?" he demanded, turning on her. His eyes were burning, anger and old pain colliding inside of them.

"To realize that you're worthy of being loved. You're worthy, Damon. You just have to fight for it."

Something in his eyes changed and he stepped forward, forcing her to retreat until her back met the wall. He trapped her in with his hands braced on either side of her head and lowered his face until he was close enough for her to feel the whisper of his slow, controlled breaths against her cheek. His eyes unwaveringly held hers as he asked exactly what she'd demanded of him.

"Do you love me?"

She knew the answer but the word caught in her throat, emerging as a strangled squeak. He pulled in a deep breath and she saw pain, regret and finally acceptance wash across his features. In the span of a second she'd won and lost him. It was as easy as that.

Without another word, he pulled away and stalked towards the door. He jerked it open and she shied away from the blinding stream of daylight.

"Damon!"

He halted his retreat, but only for a moment. "Unless you've changed your mind, don't ask me to stay."

She swayed gently on her feet as realization hit home. If he left now, she wouldn't see him again. He would disappear into the daylight, where she couldn't follow, and that would be it. She wasn't ready to lose him.

"Damon, please…" she pleaded, her voice cracking.

He hesitated with his hand on the doorknob before finally tightening his grip and turning his gaze towards her.

"Goodbye, Elena," he said with finality and then quietly closed the door behind him.

* * *

><p><em>Author's Note: <em>Is this the end for Damon and Elena? And what of Stefan? Stay tuned :)

Many thanks to all those who've been so loyally reading and reviewing this fic. Apologies for the wait between chapters! I want nothing but the best for you guys.

Until next time,

Langus


	13. Chapter 12

There was something cathartic about it. He listened to the sluggish beat of his victim's heart and felt the rush of blood into his mouth gradually slow. As he drained the life from her, a pretty young thing with auburn hair, a dusting of freckles across her shoulders and skin like peaches and cream, he felt a release of his own. The anger, the pain, the raw memory of how her lips had felt against his - the blood washed it all away, leaving his thoughts blissfully quiet and his mind clear. Pulling back, he exhaled in exhilaration and let the corpse fall to the ground. He'd have to dispose of it properly, but for now he was content to relish in the euphoria that followed the kill.

Bracing his hands against the stone rail of the bridge, Damon looked out over the river and felt his features gradually return to normal. The girl at his feet was his third of the day. After leaving Elena behind, trapped in that house, he'd made his way to the French Quarter. Moving with purpose, he'd navigated the throngs of tourists in search of a distraction. The plan had been to get blind drunk and convince himself he hated her. Instead, some cocky kid had shouldered him and then gaped in shock when he wasn't thrown off balance.

In that moment he'd realized that no amount of alcohol in the world would be enough. He needed to destroy something, to become that savage thing she hated most. He'd compelled the kid into an alley and then happily tore out his throat. He knew how to make it painless. If you punctured the neck just so, they hardly even felt it. But today he had no interest in being merciful or sparing anyone any pain. It'd been messy. The kid had fought him, his body writhing in agony from start to finish. He'd revelled in it, taking joy in the knowledge that he'd had a hand in destroying something that'd once held such promise.

The boy's body had barely dropped to the ground before he was on the hunt again. One wasn't enough, it never was when he was on a bender. His second victim was a middle-aged housewife. He'd caught her coming out of a shop with a bag of sweets, a tourist by the look of her. She'd smiled at him pleasantly and he'd walked alongside her a while, politely listening to her prattle on about the nice weather they were having and how it was her first time in the Big Easy. At the end of the street he'd steered her into an alley, compelled her not to make a sound, and then drained her too.

Exhaling a short sigh, Damon stepped back from the wall of the bridge and looked down at his handiwork. She barely looked old enough to be in college. Maybe she'd lied about her age. They did that sometimes. He'd found her sitting in the park reading a book. She looked perfectly serene and it'd drawn him to her like a moth to the flame. In that moment he'd decided that he needed her and nothing would stop him from having her. She'd gone with him so willingly, no compulsion necessary. She'd blushed as they walked, her eyes looking at him with such warmth that for a solitary moment he considered letting her go.

There was something about the turn of her mouth that reminded him of Elena. Perfection teased that half-smile, invoking vivid memories of the creature whose affections he was far from earning and would never be worthy of deserving. For so long he'd fought to keep the monster within him hidden from her. Even more so now than ever before, because she'd needed him to be strong, but there was only so much he was capable of. It was obvious now what path lay ahead for them, but that didn't make it any easier to give up the one thing he'd ever yearned for with his whole heart.

And so when it came to Jessica, the college student who enjoyed reading in the park, he found himself rebelling against the overwhelming helplessness that'd accompanied his decision because it was all that he could do to keep his sanity. With his mouth at her throat he'd drained her until he felt the last shuddering beat of her heart and then said 'goodbye' to that part of himself that longed for his brother's girl. He would pack it away, somewhere deep inside where it would stay until he became too drunk or self destructive to hide it any longer. Then he would pull it out to wallow in it, remembering how she'd brought him so painfully close to feeling human.

It was a shame, he thought, looking down at the red head draped across his feet. Feeling a twinge of guilt, he bent down and lifted her limp body into his arms. Careful to arrange his expression into that of a patient but inconvenienced boyfriend, he carried her down the narrow path into the woods.

Further in was a marsh with a pete bog. He'd used it to hide bodies more than once before. It didn't take long to find it and as he stood at the edge he looked down into the face of the last life he'd taken. This was the part of him Elena could never know. For her, killing was something repugnant. She feared that part of herself, the part that lived for the hunt, more than anything else. She would never understand just how naturally it came to him or how much he truly enjoyed it. And he didn't want her to, because he didn't want this for her. He never had.

Frowning, he gently lowered the girl's limp body into the murky water. With hands stuffed deep into his pockets he watched her slowly slip below the surface and then disappear from sight. In a few month's time he'd make an anonymous call to the New Orleans Police Department to report the body. Her family deserved to know what'd happened to her and the acidic pete would do a decent job of hiding his role in it all.

By the time he exited the forest the sky had turned an ashy grey and night had nearly descended upon the city. Revellers and tourists would soon be filling the brightly lit streets in search of adventure, beauty and stories to tell their friends back home. The promise of an unlimited supply of meals had its appeal, but instead he turned in the direction of Faubourg Marigny. His feet moved reluctantly toward the shotgun house knowing what awaited him.

The soft cadence of his footsteps against the pavement came to an abrupt halt a few yards from the house. Tilting his head to the side, he studied the form of his brother perched casually atop the hood of his car and considered how best to approach. He'd last seen Stefan the night of their ill-fated trip to the Mystic Grill, after which point he'd driven a vervained Elena to New Orleans without a glance back. Stefan's expression was rather blasé, which could only mean one thing – his brother was pissed as hell.

"What up, brother?"

Stefan slid off the hood of the car and eyed him down as he sidled up to greet him. A smirk lifted the corners of his mouth a bare half second before Stefan's right hook met his jaw. The punch was hard, not enough to break bone but enough to make a point. Damon straightened up and gingerly moved his jaw side to side to ensure it was still in working order.

"I guess I deserved that," he conceded, shrugging it off.

Stefan's brow lifted and a dark smile crossed his lips. "You try something like that again and I'll rip your damn heart out."

"Promise?" Damon smiled grimly, unfazed by his brother's threat. "So I guess I don't need to ask why you're here," he added with a pointed glance at the house. Stefan followed his gaze.

"Why'd you leave her in there by herself?"

Damon shrugged, feeling that nagging sense of guilt return and settle just below his breastbone. "We had a…disagreement. I needed a 'time out' and so did she."

"Awe, what's the matter, Damon?" his brother taunted, looking a little too satisfied, "She didn't appreciate you abducting her either?"

"Whatever," he scowled. "It's not like she could leave. Unless you've come bearing gifts in the form of a day walking ring?"

Stefan's lips pressed together and he shook his head. So, no progress there then. Bonnie's true unfailing quality was her stubbornness. She was exactly like every Bennett witch he'd ever known – powerful, judgemental and utterly immovable when it came to their idea of what was right and wrong. It would've been amusing to watch Bonnie's reluctance to help piss off Stefan if it weren't so damn inconvenient for him too.

"Let's get this over with," he muttered and headed for the door with Stefan following close behind.

The door wasn't locked and Damon pushed it open, quietly bracing for the confrontation that awaited him. He could already picture her, glaring at him from the couch with her arms crossed and her foot tapping. Just like Katherine, she knew how to sulk when it suited her. A lesser man would have caved instantly. Who was he kidding? He was the lesser man.

Inside, the main room was awash with shadow. Thinking it odd that she hadn't turned on any lights, he flipped the switch and glanced curiously about the freshly lit living room. A tingle of unease slid down his spine as Stefan stepped up behind him and took a quick survey of the room.

"Where is she?"

Damon shrugged and furrowed his brow. "That's what I'd like to know."

Determined, he set forward through the house, turning on lights as he went. By the time he reached the back room he half expected to see her curled up atop the mattress, asleep. The glaring light from the unshaded lamp flooded the empty room and a knot of fear quickly formed in the pit of his stomach. She was gone. For how long was impossible to know, but it didn't matter. An upset, hungry and intoxicated Elena was loose in New Orleans with no shortage of victims to choose from. He didn't need a psychic to tell him how this was going to end.

"We've got a problem," he announced as he returned to the living room. Stefan took one look at the expression on his face and froze.

"She's gone? Where would she go?"

"Your guess is as good as mine. She's been out of blood for a while, maybe six hours. The moment sunset hit she probably bolted."

Stefan paced restlessly back and forth across the floor. "Damn it! How could you let his happen? You knew she wasn't stable! How could you leave her alone?"

Damon let his brother rant freely at him as he eyed the three empty liquor bottles lying atop the side table. Those had been half empty when he'd left. Apparently Elena had been busy while he'd been out.

With his sense of unease growing stronger with each passing minute, he turned his attention to Stefan. "We should split up and search the downtown core one district at a time," he suggested, eager to start looking for her. "Worst case scenario she kills a few people, we clean up after her and then take her back to Mystic Falls."

His attempt at being cavalier to mask the sense of foreboding churning his gut fell miserably flat. He knew better, and judging by the way Stefan's eyes hardened, so did he.

"It's not that simple, Damon," he snapped. "If Elena kills, Bonnie won't make her a day walking ring."

"And how will Bonnie know? If you don't tell her, and I don't tell her…"

"There's a spell," Stefan interjected with a shake of his head. "Bonnie intends to spell Elena before she makes the ring. If Elena has blood on her hands, even if it was accidental, the spell will show it."

"Damn witches… Always making things complicated," Damon cursed, wishing very hard that Elena had left a shot of something strong behind for him.

"We should probably start where you've taken her. She might feel more comfortable hunting somewhere she's been before," Stefan suggested, taking control of the situation.

Damon nodded distractedly and quickly ran through the list of clubs they'd toured. There was at least a dozen different places, all spread out across the downtown. They mapped out a search plan and were out the door in less than five minutes. When it came to hunting, or rather, preventing a vampire from hunting, every minute counted.

The first three clubs were a bust. Damon stepped out onto the sidewalk and quickly texted an update to Stefan – "Nada." A second later his phone vibrated with a reply – "Same here."

Finding himself crossing through St Anthony's Garden, Damon raked a hand through his dark hair and tried to put himself in Elena's shoes. Where would she have gone? He was painfully aware that they were running out of time, but inspiration was nowhere to be found. Forgetting inspiration for a moment, he settled for reason. Stefan was the better logician, always had been, but that didn't mean he was incapable of thinking critically when it mattered.

Standing still a moment, he feigned interest in a tall statue of Jesus while he went over possible scenarios in his mind. If she were as hungry as he thought she was, she'd want to feed as soon as possible. The bustling main streets provided an obstacle though in that privacy was almost impossible. She'd want to go somewhere dark and private, away from the prying eyes and interruptions.

Turning, he stared across the street at Pirate Alley and felt his stomach knot. Moving quickly across the green, he made it to the other side of the street in no time. His sound of his shoes against the worn cobblestones echoed off the buildings that rose up on either side of the narrow street. The further he walked the quieter the noise from the main street became and the greater his sense of dread. He picked up his pace until he was practically jogging and rounded the corner. He exhaled a momentary sigh of relief when he saw the alley beyond deserted, but it didn't last long. He could smell blood and that didn't bode well for any of them. He'd swear he'd never felt his feet move as quickly as they did in that moment. One moment he was at the crossroads between Pirate Alley and the alley and in the next he was standing over her struggling to breathe.

She sat curled atop the damp cobblestone with the body of a man laid out across her lap. She looked up as she heard him approach, her lips still stained with blood. The fear in her eyes was quickly replaced by awareness and she slowly returned her gaze to her victim. He was unremarkable in every way, right down to his plain suit and cheap loafers.

"I was just so hungry," she whispered, her voice thick with tears. "I tried to give him blood, you know, to make him better? But I don't think it's working."

He glanced between the bloody mark on her wrist and the fresh tears snaking down her cheeks and felt his heart clench. Hidden within his jacket pocket, his fingers texted Stefan to let him know where they were.

"Damon," she pleaded, and the way her voice cracked on his name was like a dagger through him. "I think I killed him."

Exhaling softly, he crouched down and sombrely checked her victim. The man's head lolled limply to the side and he winced faintly at the gaping wound she'd left in his neck.

"He's dead," he said softly, confirming her fears. She began to sob then, and it was all he could do to keep himself from reaching out and gathering her into his arms. Stefan arrived just then with a soft gust of wind and stared down at the scene in front of him. Without hesitating, he dropped to his knee and pulled Elena into his arms to comfort her. Damon kept his eyes averted from the touching scene until he had enough control over his emotions to not let his jealousy and frustration show. When he finally lifted his eyes from the corpse, they met Stefan's steely glare.

_This is your fault,_ they said. And he agreed.

"I'll fix it," he promised to the night. "Whatever I have to do, I'll fix it."

"It's not that simple, Damon," Stefan rebutted.

"It has to be," he shot back, getting to his feet. "It has to be, Stefan, because I can't bear the thought of her spending an eternity bound to shadows because I wasn't there for her."

"What are you talking about?" Elena managed, withdrawing from of Stefan's embrace. "What's he talking about?" she asked again, her eyes on Stefan.

"It's Bonnie. She told me that she wouldn't make you a day walking ring if you'd taken a human life. I'm so sorry, Elena. We'll find a way to fix this. We'll talk to Bonnie and-"

"No," she cut in, abruptly silencing whatever reassuring thing he'd been about to say. "No," she said again, more firmly this time. "Bonnie's right."

Their mutual surprise was quickly overshadowed by worry as she added even more softly, "I'm a monster. I'm a danger to everyone I know. I don't deserve to have a ring and I don't want one."

"You're not a monster."

Damon's impassioned assertion caught her attention and she met his gaze evenly.

"You deserve to have a life, Elena, a normal life. This isn't worth punishing yourself for an eternity over," he pleaded with her, gesturing with a wave of his hand at her victim's motionless body.

"Besides," he added, seeing that she was making ready to argue, "it's because of me that you're even in this mess so it's up to me to make it right. I'll find a way or I'll die trying. It's win-win!"

Her face fell in the wake of his sarcastic smile. She was too smart to buy in to his false bravado. Truthfully he had no idea if there even _was_ another way, but that wouldn't stop him from searching. Besides, some time apart was probably for the best. Things had gotten messy since leaving Mystic falls and the last thing she needed was him making things unnecessarily complicated for her. While the thought of leaving her for what could turn out to be an indefinite amount of time left his stomach resting somewhere near his feet and his heart in his throat, he knew he would do it. Because at the end of the day, if he loved her even half as much as he thought he did he would know that this was right.

Elena's expression was torn between fear, frustration and sadness. His fingers longed to brush the stray tears from her cheeks, but instead he shoved them deep into the pockets of his jacket and offered her a brief, encouraging smile.

With a departing nod aimed at Stefan, he turned heel and stalked off into the night having absolutely no idea where to start. But for the moment, at least, none of that mattered. What mattered was getting as far away from New Orleans as possible so he wouldn't be subjected to visual reminders of just how badly he'd failed her and every way in which she would never be his. The worst part was the quiet voice inside his head that told him it was for the best. No matter how badly he might want her, he could not deny that one crippling truth and it drove his feet onward, across the never-ending blacktop into the night.

* * *

><p><span>Author's Note:<span> Sorry for the wait! I hope you enjoyed this chapter. It was rather angsty, I think, but hopefully not over the top.

Cheers & Much love to my readers,

Langus


	14. Chapter 13

There are times when silence speaks volumes. Stefan reflected on this as he lingered in the door to the study, watching her. He'd stood on the same spot so many times over the past week he was surprised his shoulder hadn't worn a groove into the ancient wood. His hand slipped away from the doorframe, the soft brush of the wood grain disarmingly comforting.

The Salvatore house had been constructed out of the strongest oak trees in Mystic Falls. Nearly two centuries had passed since it was built, yet the boards and panels that rooted the structure to its foundations held fast. This house had seen its share of disasters, both natural and supernatural, and weathered them all. Stefan took strength from that, reminding himself that, much like his house, his relationship with Elena was built on a strong foundation. They would get through this. They would survive. He just had to be patient.

She sat on the window bench, legs tucked under her and a weathered book open on her lap. Her eyes lingered on the yard beyond the windowpane, her mind far away from Mystic Falls. Was she thinking about _him_? Stefan pushed the thought from his mind and replaced it with another that was easier to chew over - New Orleans had changed her. There were moments when she made an effort to act like her old self, but she hadn't been the same since their return. She'd been withdrawn, aloof, unwilling to talk about any of it… He could feel the conflicted emotions coming from her, see them in her eyes and the soft downward turn of her mouth, and he felt helpless to console her. But it hadn't stopped him from trying.

Sucking in a soft breath, he rapped lightly on the door to catch her attention. Her head snapped up and an automatic smile curved her lips, but it didn't quite reach her eyes. He hid the pain her indifference caused behind a warm smile and stepped into the room. Casually crossing his arms in front of his chest, he leaned against the large writing desk at its centre. Elena gently closed the book in her lap, her hands unconsciously caressing the aged leather binding, and looked at him expectantly.

"Caroline's here to see you," he informed her. "She's waiting downstairs."

"Oh, that's right. I forgot she was coming over today." She suffered an embarrassed smile and reluctantly set her book aside.

"I could always ask her to come back tomorrow," he offered, though the thought of Elena isolating herself more than she already had left him uneasy.

To his relief, she shook her head and dismissed the suggestion with a wave of her hand. "No, it's fine. Besides, you know Caroline – she hates being stood up."

Stefan grinned at the image of the perky blonde downstairs impatiently tapping her pump against the hardwood floor. She was right about that – there were few things Caroline disliked more than being made to wait.

"I'd better get down there," Elena sighed, sliding off the window bench. "Thanks for letting me know."

"Sure, any time."

She made it to the door before he stopped her, his feet planted firmly between her and the hall.

"I'm fine," she insisted, crossing her arms defensively.

"Are you?"

His question hung in the air between them as his hand lifted to gently brush a few wayward strands of hair behind her ear. There was an aching familiarity about the way she allowed him to touch her. The simple gestures she permitted him, hurt far more than any outright rejection could. Her eyes closed at the soft touch of his hand against her cheek and he planted a kiss atop her head. Then the moment was over and she pulled away. She gave him a lingering look and released his hand before heading down the stairs.

He watched her go, his fingers twitching against the burning warmth of her skin that lingered on them. With the sound of the girls greeting one another echoing through the stairwell, he found himself drawn back to the study and the book she'd left behind. Hovering by the table next to the window seat, he glanced down at the worn cover, the leather tattered and peeling at each corner, and slowly opened it. The title _Pride & Prejudice_ glared up at him from the first thin yellowed page, bringing back sharp memories of the brother he hadn't seen since New Orleans. How had Damon managed to get under her skin so completely? Stefan frowned and slowly replaced the cover. His fight to secure her heart, it seemed, was far from over.

oOo

Caroline examined the overgrown back garden through the living room's floor to ceiling windows. With all the money at the Salvatore's disposal, had they never thought to hire a gardener? Turning away from the veritable forest of weeds and scraggly bushes, Caroline directed her attention to the rest of the room. She cast a disapproving eye at the heavy curtains, dark wood panelling and oriental rugs. The whole place was in dire need of a makeover! A room like this could really shine with a woman's touch. Just a few adjustments here or there and the Salvatore mansion would be ready to join the rest of them in the new Millennium. Maybe now that Elena was spending more time here, she could encourage Stefan to make a few touch ups. It might be exactly the sort of distraction she needed to get her mind off things – mainly, all things Damon.

"Caroline?"

Elena called to her but held back, lingering in the hall. Caroline blinked at her in confusion until she felt the warmth of the sun against her arm and remembered that she'd left the curtains wide open. With a sharp gasp, she quickly snapped them shut.

"I completely forgot, Elena. I'm so sorry…!" she apologized, looking mortified.

"Hey, don't worry about it." Elena dismissed the incident with a wave of her hand and enveloped her friend in a warm hug.

"How are you holding up?"

A soft sigh escaped Elena's lips and they sank down together onto the soft leather couch. Seeing the concern that furrowed her friend's brow, she offered a half-hearted shrug.

"It was hard at first but I'm…adjusting. I'm doing better now."

Caroline studied her with a speculative look. Elena was not fine and hadn't been since the morning she'd woken up a vampire. Her impromptu trip to New Orleans with _Damon_ of all people hadn't helped matters either. In fact, she was certain it'd made them worse.

"You know if you ever want to talk about it I'm here, right? Any time, day or night. Like the Ghostbusters or something…" Caroline giggled nervously at her own silly joke, but soon sobered up. "I'm your friend, Elena. I just want to help."

Elena smiled softly at her and answered, "I know. You've always been a good friend to me, Caroline."

Caroline waited a beat, hoping that this might be the moment Elena chose to open up to her. Instead the silence became pronounced until it bordered on awkward and then she found herself blurting out the first thing that came to mind, simply to fill the void.

"I saw Jeremy today."

The moment the words left her lips she regretted them. Family was a bit of a sore subject at the moment. Elena had been avoiding hers for the sake of protecting them from herself. It hadn't been easy to keep them in the dark and was getting more difficult with each passing day. They couldn't avoid the issue forever, especially if they had any intention of keeping up the charade that Elena was a regular teenage girl.

Elena's expression was both anxious and eager as she sat up and demanded to know what her brother had said.

"He's been asking questions," Caroline replied hesitantly before getting to her feet. "I don't know how much longer I can keep him away. You should go see him, just so he knows you're okay. It's been-"

"I know how long it's been," she snapped, a little too abruptly, "but I can't go home. You know I can't! "

"When I first turned I was terrified that I'd hurt my Mom or do something that would give me away. But I got through it, and you will too. You just have to have a bit of faith in yourself. Remember what we talked about before? About learning how to control it? Maybe if we practice a bit more…"

"No!" Elena's sharp rebuke brought any further protests to an abrupt halt. Caroline lifted a disapproving brow and Elena took a moment to collect herself before adding more calmly, "I'm not in control. I can't put them at risk until I know for sure that I can handle it."

"Fine," Caroline sighed, "continue to hide yourself away from the world and everyone who cares about it. It's obviously been working well for you so far."

Elena glowered at her friend's biting words. Getting to her feet, she paced restlessly across the living room floor and raked her hands through her hair. Stopping by the wet bar, she set out a glass and automatically reached for the bottle of _Booker's_. It was Damon's favourite, a strong single barrel bourbon that felt like fire going down and then filled your stomach with a pleasant warmth. Her hand lingered, fingers caressing the smooth glass. _Where are you?_ she thought before impulsively reaching for the decanter filled with _Wild Turkey_ and splashing a healthy amount in her glass.

She hadn't heard from him since New Orleans. All her texts had gone unanswered, her calls forwarded to voicemail. Whatever he was doing, he didn't want her involved and it unnerved her. What was he up to? Knowing how he operated, she realized it couldn't be anything good. She couldn't shake the anxiety curling in her gut or the concern for his wellbeing that permeated her every waking moment - not with anger, certainly not with books, not even with endless glasses of bourbon.

Damon had gotten under her skin, far deeper than she ever could have anticipated. And now he was gone, and she stuck behind to pick up the pieces and rebuild the life she'd once had – with Stefan, with her family and her friends. It was overwhelming. Until now she'd been avoiding it, avoiding everyone, including Stefan, but she knew she couldn't keep it up forever. At some point she'd have to move forward from the stagnant space she'd carved out for herself but there was one monumental fear standing in her way.

"How did you do it?" she asked softly, glancing up to meet Caroline's scrutinizing gaze. "When you killed that guy, how did you get past it? I've tried everything but…" She finished with a helpless shrug and felt tears well up in her eyes.

That was the crux of her problem – she had no way to conquer the insurmountable fear that it would happen again. And worst of all was the knowledge that she'd liked it. Feeling a life extinguish beneath her own hands, knowing that she had complete control over whether another being lived or died, was exhilarating. That fleeting moment was the most alive she'd ever felt and part of her desperately wanted to feel it again… and again… and again.

That was what terrified her and kept her up at night. It'd felt so _good_. She'd had a front row seat to Stefan's struggle to control that very same urge, and he had a hundred times the self control she did. Caroline had managed it somehow, but Elena knew she was nowhere near the A-type perfectionist that she was. How could she possibly do it?

Caroline was at her side in a heartbeat, offering a sympathetic look and a warm embrace.

"It took time," she answered gently, her tone soothing. "A lot of time. The fear that it'll happen again is always there," she confessed, pulling back to meet her gaze, "but you move on. You go about your life and each day that you face that fear and conquer it you feel stronger. Staying here like this is only letting that fear have power over you – don't let it."

She knew Caroline was right, but a voice inside her head scoffed at how easy she made it sound. Go out there and face your fear, stare it down and conquer it! If it were that simple she would have done it ages ago.

"Any tips you want to throw my way?" she joked, putting her glass to her lips. The _Wild Turkey_ was strong and numbed her tongue. As she set the empty glass down, she found herself wishing she'd chosen the _Booker's _instead.

"Well," Caroline hazarded with a mischievous look, "distractions help – specifically the normal teenage life variety. Didn't you ever wonder why I decided to head the Dance Committee?"

"If this is your way of conning me into joining the Dance Committee…"

"Please," she scoffed, "I have enough minions for that and if there are ever not enough I can always compel some more. I was thinking something more along the lines of a football game."

"A…football game?"

"Sure, why not?" Caroline was on a roll now, talking a mile a minute. "Matt and Tyler are both playing and I know Jer is gonna be there. It'd be just like old times, before all this vampire craziness entered our lives. You and me and a bunch of cute football players."

Elena hesitated, hearing the distinct voice of warning echo through her mind. _There'll be hundreds of people filling the stands, hundreds of potential victims or witnesses_, it said. Caroline didn't give her a chance to dwell on the "what if"s and "maybes".

"Come on," she pleaded. "It'll be fun! You need to get out and remember that your life can still be somewhat normal."

Elena opened her mouth to object and Caroline held up a finger. "Plus, I'll be at your side the entire night. I mean it - I won't leave you alone again. I made that mistake last time..."

The fleeting guilt that crossed her friend's features was hard to miss and Elena felt herself giving in. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad… And if Jer and the others were there, a brief chat would help keep up the façade that everything was fine.

Offering a tight-lipped smile, she conceded defeat. "Okay, fine."

"Yes!" Caroline squealed, clapping her hands with delight. "You won't regret this, I promise."

Elena prayed she was right.

oOo

The streets of Seattle were rainy slick and vacant. Those with a place to go had tucked themselves indoors and out of the storm. Those who didn't made do with what shelter they could find. Damon sat atop a park bench, shielded from the worst of the rain by the broad leafy branches of an ancient oak. He'd been sitting there, staring at his phone for a quarter of an hour and wasn't any closer to pressing "Dial". Snapping the device shut, he stuffed it into his jacket pocket with a muffled sound of disgust.

She'd left messages, a dozen of them, demanding to know where he was and when he'd be back, pleading with him to give up whatever insane mission he was on. He hadn't been able to bring himself to respond to a single one. What good would calling her do? It'd only make things more difficult for both of them. It was pointless.

That was what he told himself again and again, but there wasn't a bone in his body that didn't miss her. New Orleans felt like a lifetime ago and it'd ended far too quickly. For now he was consoled knowing that she was safe and surrounded by people who cared about her, people who could help her comes to terms with what'd happened in that alley. He'd never intended for any of this to happen, but that didn't change the fact that it was entirely his fault. Now, it was left up to him to make it right.

Damon studied a nondescript apartment building across the street and headed for the door. The first step in his mission to get Elena a day walking ring was to obtain some much needed information – by whatever means were necessary. He glanced through the list of names on the door and smirked at the plate that read L. Lioncourt. What better moniker could one of the most notorious vampire groupies in America have than that of one of its most famous fictional vampires?

He pressed the buzzer of apartment 14 and waited. After a few seconds he heard a click and then the soft sound of someone breathing.

"It's Damon Salvatore," he announced.

An abrupt click sounded through the small, grainy speaker, followed by a loud buzzing sound. Damon pulled open the door with a satisfied look and took the elevator to the 14th floor.

Markus was waiting for him, eyeing him up and down like a hungry wolf.

"Never thought I'd see you again," he remarked, a slight edge to his tone.

Damon shrugged and pushed past him into the apartment. The loft was spacious, decorated to the rafters in top of the line everything. It was apparent that Markus had himself at least one very wealthy vampire benefactor. He turned back to the man in question as he heard the door shut.

"The last time you were in Seattle I caught you with my girlfriend. If you're looking for a repeat performance I hate to inform you that we're no longer together and I have no idea where she is."

"Oh Markus," Damon cooed with a sarcastic smile. "I did you a favour! If it wasn't me it would've been some other vampire. At least I did you the courtesy of leaving her alive."

"You're an asshole."

Markus scowled at him across his kitchen sink and then took out a bottle of Scotch and two tumblers. He poured a healthy amount into both glasses and promptly downed his. He topped his glass up again and pushed the other across the counter. Damon took it up and offered him a silent toast before tossing it back. The vervain burned on the way down, enough to make his eyes water, but he managed to swallow it without any visible struggle. Putting vervain into their own alcohol supply had built up his tolerance, but Markus had spiked his bottles with a considerable amount.

"You've been keeping yourself well stocked on vervain, I see," he observed, his voice sounding slightly rougher than usual.

Markus smirked, "Yeah, well, one can never be too careful." He took a thoughtful sip of his drink and leaned casually against the kitchen counter. "So what is it you want, Damon Salvatore?"

"Information. Specifically, the name of someone I can talk to about getting a day walking ring."

"What's the matter? Yours stopped working?" he teased. Drinking down what was left of his Scotch, he left the glass onto the counter and manoeuvred around Damon.

"I wish I could help you, Damon, I really do, but the words 'go to Hell' come to mind."

Damon sighed and shook his head, "You know, I was really hoping you wouldn't make this difficult. Can't we just pretend to be friends for 10 minutes so I can get what I need and be out of your life for good?"

"Tempting," Markus retorted flatly. "Now get the hell out."

Damon had no intention of leaving. Before Markus could react, he'd wrapped a hand around his neck.

"You could have made this easier on yourself," he lamented with a hint of regret. "I had every intention of compelling the information out of you and then leaving but now you've made that impossible. Lucky for me, I know a variety of ways to extract information from unwilling participants."

"I won't tell you shit," he swore, struggling against the pressure of the fingers bruising his throat.

"Yes, you will. How long you suffer before that point is entirely up to you," Damon said with chilling certainty.

The sudden extra pressure of his fingers was just enough to knock his victim out. Damon promptly dropped him to the floor and set about gagging him and tying him to the nearest chair. One way or another, he was going to get the information he needed. Whether Markus survived the ordeal was another matter entirely.

* * *

><p><span>Selected Listening:<span>

Florence + The Machine – Shake It Out (Acoustic)


	15. Chapter 14

The football field at Mystic Falls High was a melee of colours. Atop the brightly lit field, players dressed in opposing shades of maroon and yellow staked their territory on opposing ends of the field. While they completed their final warm up routines and strategy sessions prior to the game, spectators slowly filled the stands.

Hints of rose and tangerine stained the twilight sky, the remnants of a beautiful sunset, and Elena took a long moment to appreciate a scene she might never see again. Exhaling slowly, she put a smile on her face and shook her pom poms with as much vigour as she could muster. Joining the cheer squad for the game had been Caroline's idea.

"If you're busy worrying about the routine you won't have time to think about gnawing on someone's neck," she'd helpfully pointed out.

Elena glanced across the group of perky, made up, uniformly dressed girls and met her friend's eye. Caroline gave her a wink and then turned her attention back to the crowd and shouted out a supportive cheer for the home team. Elena followed suit, remembering for a brief moment just how different her life had been a year ago. Before her parents died, before Stefan and Damon had entered her world, this had been her entire existence – cheer squad, finals, boys and Friday night football games. She'd been no different from the girl standing next to her, another pretty face with no thoughts about anything more significant than who her date for prom would be. Death hadn't even been on her radar until it was and now it was all she could think about.

Swallowing down the anxious knot in her throat, she chimed in on the cheer Caroline had started and searched the crowd for familiar faces. Jeremy was there, sitting next to Bonnie. Their eyes met and he lifted a brow in surprise. She looked away and smiled harder, cheering with as much enthusiasm as she could. If she was going to have any hope of convincing him things were fine, she couldn't afford to give any less than 110%.

Turning to face the crowd to her right, she smiled brightly and shouted out a sufficiently perky "Goooo Timberwolves!" It was then that her eyes met Stefan's. He was leaning against the bleachers, watching her carefully. Her smile faltered for only a second before she caught herself and gave him what she hoped was a convincingly reassuring look. "I'm fine," it said. Whether she believed it herself was an entirely different story.

Though she'd been reluctant to follow along with Caroline's plan at the start, she had to admit that being preoccupied with the cheer squad had temporarily kept all thoughts of blood and hunger at bay. When the referee blew the half time whistle, she was legitimately stunned. Though she was a bit tired from an hour of non-stop cheering, she wasn't on the verge of a mass homicidal attack and for that she breathed a quiet sigh of relief.

"You're doing great!" Caroline's cheerful voice cut into her thoughts and she turned to find her friend smiling at her. "Even without much practice you've nailed pretty much every routine!"

The perky blonde cheerfully shook her pom poms at the crowd as she leaned over and whispered "How's the cravings?"

"Manageable," Elena whispered back wearing a tight smile.

"Here, this might help." Caroline handed her an opaque, red water bottle and nodded encouragingly. She gave it an inquisitive look and sloshed around the contents until the scent of blood hit her.

"Caroline…" she threatened, her voice tight with panic. "What are you thinking?"

"I'm just taking precautions," she answered sweetly and waved her pom poms at the crowd once more. "When your body gets tired the cravings get worse. Finish that before we start up again or you're going to have a rough second half. Trust me."

She doubted the wisdom of allowing herself a water bottle of blood in front of a large crowd, but Caroline hadn't been wrong so far. And if this kept her cravings at bay long enough for her to convince Jeremy, Stefan, Bonnie and everyone else that she was managing, it was worth a shot.

Just as she'd expected, the first sip was pure bliss. Turning her back to the crowd, she sucked the bottle dry as quickly and cleanly as possible and made sure to lick and remnants from her lips. Satiated for the moment, her hunger temporarily receded enough that it could be ignored. Turning back, she saw Caroline giving the rest of the girls on the squad a quick pep talk. She would have been lost without her. Neurotic, control freak, type A personality Caroline had been her saviour. If it weren't for her and Damon…

"You look great out there."

Stefan had come up so quietly she'd hardly heard him over the sound of the marching band's final number.

"Thanks," she replied, putting on a smile. "I thought you would've been playing…"

"I had more important things to worry about," he said with a dismissive shrug.

_Right_, she thought. _Must protect the school from the crazy blood hungry baby vamp_. It was difficult to keep the small wave of resentment she felt at bay, but she pushed it down and held it there until it passed.

"I'm fine, really," she said finally, handing him the water bottle. "Caroline's been keeping an eye on me."

"Is it working?" he asked with a curious look at the empty bottle.

"Haven't killed anyone yet!"

Her attempt at humour was lost on him. He looked concerned as he gently stroked her face.

"I won't be far," he promised, keeping his voice low. "If anything happens I'll be right here."

She nodded and offered him a small smile. She was so lucky to have so many people around her to support her. Stefan, Damon, Caroline… They hadn't had anyone. She couldn't even imagine what this would have been like to go through without their guidance and support.

"Any word from Damon?" she asked suddenly, turning her attention to the field. It was a long moment before he answered.

"Haven't heard from him since New Orleans."

"Oh." She kept her gaze fixed on the players to disguise her disappointment. She'd been hoping for some news, however small it was. She missed him - every moment of every day. Why hadn't he returned any of her calls? A familiar knot of worry tightened in her gut and she did her best to ignore it. Damon was safe, he was fine – he had to be.

With the blow of the referee's whistle the second half of the game began and she was thankful for the excuse.

"Gotta go," she said, gesturing apologetically towards the cheer squad. Stefan nodded and waved her off as she jogged to join the others. Jeremy and Bonnie were still in the crowd watching. She made a point to wave at them before starting in on the next routine.

It was difficult, one of the most challenging Caroline had ever come up with, but she was thankful for it. The more she concentrated on where to place her arms and feet, the less she had to worry about Damon, or Stefan, or Jeremy, or Bonnie, or the hunger that was always restless inside of her. It was peaceful inside her head, for just that little while. That was, until the unthinkable happened.

With a shrill whistle the game came to a screeching halt. The crowd gasped and shrank back in unison, their eyes fixed on the field. Elena didn't need to turn around to know that one of the players had been injured. She could smell the blood. It was fresh and warm and so close within her reach. Caroline was at her side as quickly as humanly possible, which was no easy task for a vampire. Taking her firmly by the arm, she caught her eye and spoke to her directly.

"Elena, we are going to leave now, just you and me. Don't look at the field, don't breathe in, just walk with me."

Elena nodded and allowed Caroline to lead her towards the edge of the field where Stefan was waiting. There she was handed off with a frantic whisper of "Get Elena out of here". She clung to Stefan and watched Caroline calmly return to the field. For the first time in recent memory she envied her friend. Caroline Forbes was strong enough to control her urges, determined enough to have a normal life. So why was it so difficult for her?

Letting out a frustrated growl, Elena pushed away from Stefan and stormed off the field. He followed after her, catching up once they reached the parking lot.

"Elena, wait."

She threw up her hands and walked in a small circle to try and contain her temper. It wasn't Stefan that was the problem – it was her lack of control. She was angry at herself more than anything for failing, yet again. How much longer would she have to go through this half-life that she'd been living?

"I'm just frustrated. I should have more control by now," she explained once she could think rationally again.

"You can't rush it," Stefan consoled her, taking her hand. "Don't be so hard on yourself. It'll happen when it happens."

"I know," she conceded, pulling away. "I know you're right, I just can't stop feeling like a failure."

"Elena!"

They turned in unison to see Jeremy heading towards them with Bonnie close behind. For a fleeting moment Elena wondered whether her friend was there out of genuine concern or because she thought Jeremy needed a bodyguard.

"You okay? You left the field pretty quick…"

"Yeah, I'm fine," she deflected with a small smile. "I just got a little dizzy is all. That last routine was harder than I thought it would be."

She knew her brother better than anyone and the look in his eyes told her he wasn't convinced of her honesty. The question now was whether he'd say what was really on his mind, or let sleeping dogs lie.

"Don't worry, Jeremy. I'll take care of her and make sure she gets home safe," Stefan said as he wrapped a protective arm around her shoulders.

"Which home? Hers or yours? Cause I haven't seen her at ours in weeks."

Stefan's brows lifted in surprise at Jeremy's cutting retort. Elena gaped at him in silence as well, wondering what had prompted his sudden attack.

"Elena's free to stay where she likes." Stefan's response was cool and controlled. Jeremy focused his attention on her, holding her gaze until she nervously looked away.

"What the hell, Elena. You don't come home for weeks, don't come to school and suddenly show up at the football game to cheer with the squad? Do you have any idea how worried Jenna's been about you? I had to stop her from calling Sheriff Forbes twice."

She felt a trickle of guilt run through her and hung her head. In truth, she'd known how much she was hurting her family with her absence, but kept telling herself it was for the best. Any amount of anger from them was worth it if it kept them safe. Now though, she wondered if she hadn't done more harm than good.

"I'm sorry," she apologized sincerely. "I didn't mean to make you guys worry."

"Well, we did worry," Jer replied, sounding more adult than he ever had. "All of us did. You could've _told_ me what happened, Elena. I shouldn't have had to hear it from Bonnie."

The atmosphere in the circle changed, suddenly going very still as they all turned to look at the witch. She crossed her arms defiantly and raised a contentious brow.

"What did you expect me to do? Lie for you?" she snapped. "I told him for his own protection. No one could predict how you'd take to the change and I wanted him to prepared in case things went bad."

"You had no right-!" Her anger over Bonnie's betrayal burned in her chest until it felt like it was going to set her blood on fire. The image was fresh in her mind, so tangible it was almost real – her mouth on Bonnie's neck, her teeth tearing that smooth dark skin open. She wasn't aware she'd moved at all until Stefan's arms clamped around her, holding her fast.

"Elena, enough."

At his words, her features slowly returned to normal and she saw the look of shock and horror on her friend's face.

"Bonnie, I'm sorry," she gasped, horrified by what she'd almost done. Bonnie's eyes hardened and her jaw stubbornly jutted out. If there was ever a chance of convincing Bonnie that she was ready for a daylight ring, she'd just blown it completely.

"Bonnie had every right to tell me," Jeremy cut in, jumping to Bonnie's defence, "and I'm glad she did. Somebody around here finally had the guts to speak the truth for once. I'm not a little kid anymore, Elena. I can handle this! Why can't you see that?"

"Because you shouldn't have to handle it, Jer," she conceded, feeling herself near tears. "That's why I stayed away - to protect you and Jenna. The last thing I want to do is hurt either of you but right now…right now I don't know for sure that I won't."

It was Jeremy's turn to look surprised. He took a long moment to absorb her words before slowly nodding his head.

"All right, fine. Stay away if you need to, but no more keeping me in the dark. I want to know what's going on with you. Promise?"

She nodded and felt relief flood through her. Stefan released his hold on her long enough for her to give her brother a hug. She held him tight, thankful for the comfort, and whispered a fond "thank you". When they released one another, she turned to Bonnie and said softly, "Thanks for looking out for him."

Bonnie simply nodded in response, but Elena didn't hold it against her. It would take Bonnie a while to come to terms with what she was now. She simply had to be patient and continue trying to hone her control over the bloodlust. In time she would make it up to her and they would be friends again – she hoped.

Bonnie and Jer quietly returned to the game and she gave Stefan a grateful look.

"Thank you for stopping me. I think I really would have attacked her," she confessed, feeling utterly humiliated.

"I know you would have," he replied seriously. "I think the human blood might be too strong for you."

"More good news…must be my birthday."

"Hear me out," he pleaded, placing both hands on her shoulders. "If the human blood is too strong let's try an alternative. I've been thinking I should go on a diet for a while anyway, so what do you say? Want to try the bunny diet together? It might help you to gain back some of that control."

Desperate to have her life back to normal, she readily agreed. She was willing to try anything at this point! Pulling away, she took Stefan's hand in hers and headed towards his car. Every single part of her was hoping and praying that his plan would work. The alternative was too tragic, too depressing; she absolutely wouldn't survive it.

* * *

><p><em>Author's Note: <em>Long time, no see! Which is why I have two chapters for you. Please proceed :)


	16. Chapter 15

Damon Salvatore surveyed the exterior of Hades and listened to the muffled sounds of music coming from beyond its heavy metal door. He took a long drink from the flask tucked into his jacket to help him shake off the nerves. The last time he'd stepped through that door, he'd sworn to himself he'd never go back, but here he was ready to walk into the lionesses' den all over again. He straightened his back and pulled the door open before moving quickly through the entryway. The steady beat of the trance music pulsed through his chest, matching the rapid rhythm of his heart.

Once he'd walked out into the main part of the club, it wasn't difficult to spot his target. She sat in a large booth across from the stage, surrounded on all sides by beautiful men and women. Alexandria was one of the most stunning vampires he had ever laid eyes on, and also one of the most dangerous.

Damon moved purposefully towards her table until he was brought to an abrupt halt by a large dark hand the size of a football slamming into his chest. Not keen on having his patience tested, Damon glared up into the face of a vampire that was a full head taller than him, broad shouldered and covered with muscle in places he didn't even know there were muscles. He looked like a gladiator, straight out of Rome.

"Look, I'm just here to see Alexandria. She and I have some…unfinished business to take care of."

The giant shook his large, bald head and his eyes narrowed fractionally. Feeling his temper flare, Damon glanced down at the large hand pressed against his chest and brandished a scowl of his own.

"I'd move that hand, unless you want to be short a limb," he threatened evenly.

The giant was fast for his size. In an instant he had Damon's arm wrenched behind his back and his face pressed into a tabletop. He struggled and felt an uncomfortable pop as the gladiator behind him ground his face firmly into the wood with a meaty hand behind his head.

"Careful, Damon…" Alexandria's cool, rich voice reached him loud and clear over the music. "Thadeus is at least 400 years older than you and doesn't take kindly to strangers."

There was laughter in her tone and despite his current situation he breathed a momentary sigh of relief. Considering how things had been left between them, he wasn't sure what sort of reception he'd receive.

"Thadeus, leave him be for now," she instructed gently, and the giant released his hold and shoved Damon in the direction of her table.

Aiming a glare at the scowling behemoth over his shoulder, he massaged his sore jaw and made his approach.

"Alexandria," he greeted her, bowing formally. She nodded, a tiny smile playing at her ruby lips.

"It's been a while, Damon. Almost a century, if I remember correctly."

"Almost…" he agreed, swallowing down his apprehension. With a wave of her hand, the pale, dark-haired beauty dismissed half of her followers and invited him to sit next to her. With another wave, a cocktail glass of fresh blood appeared before him and he accepted it gratefully.

"Tell me, did you ever get that silly tomb opened?" she mused with a flirtatious smile. He watched her slender fingers toy with one of the long curls that hung over her shoulder and noted just how little had changed in a hundred years.

"I did…no thanks to you," he ground out before tossing back the blood in his glass. He felt its healing effects instantly as the throbbing pain in his cheek subsided into a dull ache.

"And how did Katherine thank her valiant rescuer? Welcomed you with open arms, did she?" The mocking sneer that lifted her lips was hard to miss and gave her otherwise doll-like features a sudden, menacing look.

"You knew she wasn't in there," Damon deduced. "You knew and you led me on anyway."

"But of _course,_" she teased, gently caressing his arm. "Everyone knew except you, poor boy. But it was a great fun watching you dash about the country in search of a way to rescue your one true love. I suppose I ought to thank you for that. Your little quest provided us all with decades of amusement."

Damon's hands curled into white-knuckled fists atop the table. A tense knot formed between his shoulder blades and he debated the wisdom of killing her. A single glance at the giant, however, made him reconsider and he eased moodily back against the leather seat.

At that moment, a young man approached the booth. He couldn't have been more than twenty-five, skinny, with thick dark hair and a terrible slouch. Damon glanced up at Thadeus but found him lounging against the bar seemingly unperturbed by the human stranger or the danger he might pose to his benefactor. The young man's Adam's apple bobbed nervously and he held out a wad of money. Alexandria accepted it and shrewdly tucked it into her dress.

"You're certain?" she asked, her tone serious.

The boy nodded, his head bobbing nervously and added a faint, "Please?"

The vampire exhaled and her features softened. "Alright, come on then." She held out a graceful hand to the boy and invited him to sit next to her.

"There's no going back, you know," she spoke softly, stroking the side of his face.

"I know," he said, more certain than before. "I want this."

"Alright then," Alexandria cooed soothingly, "close your eyes."

The young man did as she asked. She waited patiently for him to exhale the breath he'd been holding before she struck. Only a faint furrow of the boy's brow suggested he felt any pain from the teeth entering his neck. Alexandria took her time, feeding slowly so as not to cause him any unnecessary anguish and when his heart finally stopped she pulled away and discretely wiped her mouth with a napkin.

Turning to Damon with newly flushed cheeks, she offered him a sweet smile. His features twisted in disbelief and mild disgust as he watched her minions collect the body to dispose of it.

"That's new," he observed, the bitterness in his tone palpable.

Alexandria shrugged her thin shoulders and looked unperturbed as she re-touched her lipstick. "I'm doing them a kindness. Do you have any idea how many unfortunate souls are out there feeling so miserable and fed up with their lives but can't find the courage to end their suffering?"

"So you swoop in, do the deed for them and they pay you for the privilege?"

"Something like that," she retorted with a shrug. "They find peace, I get a meal and some money to blow… It's win/win!"

Damon lifted a brow and quietly shook his head. Vampires like Alexandria were the worst sort. They were scavengers who preyed upon those who were too weak or sick to put up a fight. Though he supposed after 900 years, she may have simply grown tired of searching for her dinner.

"So, Damon Salvatore, what brings you to my club?" she wondered, "It must be important enough that you'd go through Markus to track me down."

This was the moment he'd been dreading since it became obvious to him that Alexandria was the only vampire old enough to help him.

"I need a favour."

She laughed out loud, a bright tinkling sound that did little to betray the truth of her age.

"But of course you do. Why else would you be here. Come, come, tell me what it is. The suspense is just _killing _me."

Damon paused a moment to collect himself and tossed back the contents of the glass closest to him. It was a Caesar - heavy on the tomato juice and too light on the vodka. He grimaced as he swallowed, feeling the gritty juice stick to the back of his throat. He sure hoped the Drama Queen and her entourage of vampire groupies weren't paying for their drinks 'cause they were getting ripped off.

"I need a witch who can make me a daylight ring," he said, once the bitter taste in his mouth had cleared.

"What's wrong? Yours stopped working?"

Alexandra's long, white fingers reached out and playfully touched his ring while he resisted the urge to pull his hand away.

"It's for a friend."

Her brow arched in curiosity. "You have a friend?"

"I know," he replied, forcing a smile. "Hard to believe, isn't it?"

"Well," she scoffed playfully, "who am _I_ to stand in the way of friendship? My witch can make you a daylight ring, but he'll need a photo of your vampire friend. Can't do these things blind you know."

Damon begrudgingly took out his wallet and retrieved the photo of he and Elena from where he'd kept it hidden. It was a shot someone had taken of them together at her birthday party. He normally wasn't one for getting his photo taken but that night the excess of liquor swimming in his stomach had made him more carefree than usual. He'd kept his hands off her and even managed to not ruin the party and all the thanks he got for his troubles was a single photograph.

With his eye lingering on Elena's face, he handed the picture over. Alexandra's fingers caressed the photo along its weathered edges. Damon didn't have to look up to know the look she was giving him.

"Well, well… Second time's the charm?"

He refused to answer and Alexandria calmly waved over her witch. A man approached them wearing an Oxford style tweed jacket and dark rimmed glasses. He looked like he belonged in a university lecture, not a seedy night club. Alexandria handed him the photo and aimed an amused smile in Damon's direction.

"Jonathan, Damon here needs a daylight ring for his lady friend. Please help him out."

The witch nodded his head in understanding and retreated from the table. Damon exhaled a soft sigh of relief and wished there was another drink lying around the table that could help take the edge off. Whatever happened now, at least Elena could have a chance at a normal life again. With her first death behind her, things could only go up. He had to make her see that. With a bit of time and a lot of patience she'd be almost back to her old self. Almost.

"This girl, is she worth it?"

"Definitely." Damon didn't hesitate to answer, but as the word left his lips he realized the underlying meaning behind Alexandria's question. They hadn't discussed payment. Turning slowly, he saw the dangerous look in her eyes and felt a nervous smile tug at his lips.

"I suppose an I.O.U isn't going to cut it?"

She shook her head, her dark curls tumbling over her shoulder. The witch returned to their table and handed Alexandria the photo and a ring. The photo she slid across the table to Damon and he quickly pocketed it. The ring she slipped onto her finger and studied the dark gems in the dim light of the club.

"Lucky for your girl, my witch has good taste in jewellery."

Damon glanced uneasily at the ring. He knew there was something sadistic cooking up in that mind of hers. There was a reason she'd been his absolute last resort. She turned her face to his and the cruel turn of her lips made his stomach drop. It was the exact look he'd been dreading, the look that said she had plans for him that he wasn't going to like one bit.

Leaning her cheek on her hand, Alexandria aimed a smile at him across the table that promised misery and pain and spoke a single command.

"Run."

* * *

><p><em>Author's Note: <em>Sorry for the hiatus. Had a job change, cross-continental move and started school again. Life's been pretty hectic here. Hope you guys enjoyed the new chapters! I'm eager to hear any thoughts you might have :) (And before anyone says it - this is still 100% a DELENA fic!) Thanks for your support everyone :)


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